Pink Dress

"When I hold you I hold everything that is- sand, time, the tree of the rain- and everything feels alive."-Paul Neruda

1.
Let me clutch your thighs
And water the silk garden of your skin
While you drape your fingers
Like satin draw bridges, or melting snow
Across the canyon in my back
And when I crawl into you and swear
I can feel everything that is-
The rain, a Northern sky, the moon in its polar wedding dress-
Hang a smile, dance with my lips, and know
That no one could ever love you like I do-

2.
I love when tremors run through your body
Like ballads of tension, whispers along the Atlantic cable
An earthquake of flesh, watercolor buildings, and passion
It's the first stripe in an operatic movement
Like a glass waterfall, tinsel voices in a drain
Or a pale, pale symphony
Echoing, vibrating, lightning down a steel hallway
And the fire storm rips up the bone cage
Where my heart is chained
And the bonds shatter, the pain becomes an exile
And the lantern in the corner of those eyes you wear
Scars the night like the embers of a fuzzed smoke in a swollen bar
Love, do strip, and dance with my lips
Crucify my feeling with your honeycomb skin
Resin the yellowed strings of my life
And teach me with a crowned kiss
Like a delicate Italian hymnal
What it means to be alive
And to be in love-

3.
I've spent many nights
With a noose around my neck
A handful of pills
And my toes on the edge of a cement gully
Wanting nothing more in the world
But to blow the technicolor in my eyes
And smother the drumming in my chest
And steal the reality that I am
Skeletal, vascular, intestinal- human
Because I'm sick of their idiocy
Their rotten faiths, their banks,
Their porous holy books, couch lies, and myths
Their obsessions, their taxes, and their fine grade coffee and routine
And I'm choking on all the garbage of their sweater dreams
Rotting like old origami finger prints on distilled newspaper
Beautiful to them, wretched to me, and wretched to truth
But then you come, love
With soft footsteps and soft eyes and soft lips
And the very shadow of your memory
Lifts my wooden finger off this trigger
And saves me from the obsidian of all my dispair.

Reviews

[emmah]

i have wondered about the segmentation of your verses, all the ones i have read here. and this one, more than any other, makes me irreversibly convinced in the sheer skill and brilliance of your vision of your verse.
right from the title of this verse till the last line was like travelling on a light wave and crossing light years that span the deepest shade of love and the blackest shade of loneliness.
the metaphors and expressions seem to throb in palpable emotion - i won't quote because it is impossible for me to pick a line over another. this verse, in it's entirety, manifests itself, for me, as a reader, into sleets of rain and raw, red-edged midnight eyes trapped in shelves full of memories. it's a love story that could have been, but is, in stead, stifled in emptiness, like screams that come to an abrupt, tragic, unexpected halt for no explicable reason, even on hindsight. it's hope and light, that make an unlikely appearance on a dark blue day, this verse of yours.

[mope]

To start with I'd better state that I normally have an aversion to long poems, similes, obsidian, soppy love poems, and thoughts of suicide poems.

However, this works for me. Not sure how you've pulled it off, but you have (except perhaps the obsidian - the last line is superfluous). You have enough craft to rise above the clichés. An enjoyable read.

[miSS LEaf]

oh gosh, you're officially one of my fav writer now- i know it sounds cheesy and not nearly as useful a review but sorry i can't help it- you rock! ~L

[~ Otto Girl ~]

very good nice job.

[*Always be Me:)*]

oo very beautiful. this is wondeful!! good job, nice work!

[Rory CJ Frankson]

DIG THE BEAT
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****The rain, a Northern sky, the moon in its polar wedding dress-****
----Hang a smile, dance with my lips, and know----
```````````````````````````````~ Cool Lines ~```````````````````````````````
****And the fire storm rips up the bone cage****
----Where my heart is chained----

Honest, the opening kind of didn't right reach out an pull my socks off. It took
ah few lines ta find your swing thing. You know target context. Then I hit them lines 'POW'... straight up an slam it into my Library in Fav's man! It then struck me that I need dig deeper for the symphony gig. It was startin to rev out the violin like a mad Paganini riff... the Italian violinist and composer...
Metal ah the renaissance...

Not finding the cadence It threw me a little and your rhythm was obscure, but there hidden. That was brutally cool... puzzled, dug the rhyme time. Gotta say there were a ton a surprising lines. Post modernistic in bent overture. Ha ha ha.
Ya know I f****n hate dirks that only quote lines, an hey wow cool I gotta couple more points... next! Uh huh no daddy-o, dig the beat baby sugar plum an it ain't fairy-ville sweat-heat. Down under, your one bad b***h!

Beat Generation the cultural phenomena, but your a black beatnik baby. Hey you could hang with Andi Warhol an Allen Ginsberg 'the f*g', Jack Kerouac's On the Road, William s Burroughs an his Naked Lunch dealy bob. Man that was a fucked up movie, but pretty close to the book. Rappin with a f****n talkin a*****e... in his type writer? Can't get any more fucked up than that!

But, I digress. I'm back baby... balls ta the wall. Fer more. I like, like. I write hard, but swing both ways, not like bi-sexual. F**k no, I like me girls sweet and torture the s**t outta my emotionally. Like this piece. I like a small end of your Goth added, just enough to titillate... good f****n prose, in the end....

I think more advance readers'd get it if ya posted under Prose Poetry... Then no body gives a s**t if it don't rhyme. They be checkin you out. The under tow doll!

The writer... with the mean edge s**t... an you's got that...

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10/4. Later ...Ro... 5:38pm 05/18/10. You Rock!
I bought it. ' BAM' 'BAM' + + RIP'd ME... cool.
Hope lang. don't offend educabilities ;)