Devils Prize,

The Devil steals from,"The Fiery Angel" byFlar2me

Down across the ravine he squeezes through thick rhododendron ,
His tail spanking their trunks,
At the base of a towering white oak, lighting fingers scratched chard
Five lines chalking down the bark,
Black the square he yanked and the oak groaned.
From the quiver off his back he pulled a shiny parchment rolled up tight.
Unfurling it ,
He filled the oaks bare skin with the picture of last nights prize,
His Angel;
Hair and eyes a blaze, arched chest, wings spread wide,
Legs fit and long across her feathered nest,
Sweat beads between her breast,
Swollen points crying for him to come back,
Noble nose to chin,
Streaks track the repenting tears,
Tar staining her lips last true breath....

Author's Note

Appalachian Devil.....Blood Mtn, Clingmans Dome,Big Bald, His trails, His nights,
Don't get lost in a ravine when time and ridge line disappear.

Reviews

[Frieda P]

Oooo this one leaves me with an eerie feeling and yet it has a hedonic feel to it that sends me reeling. Decadent and lusty...twisted but oh so nice!

[lee von cleef]

Red wine, a Latour, a Haut Brion, The Devil can get all the wants, But not what I have had. Probably pissed him off big time.

[Frieda P]

I'm sure poets always do...ha, it's worth the read, very nice one indeed, enjoyed this one immensely!

[Tree]

The imagery is off the charts. I sat here for a while stuck on the details; sharp and frightening––––but inviting, too. There is power nestled inside this beast of a poem that exploded into my imagination. Thank you Lee. Thanks alot ;o

Diego Paz

[lee von cleef]

There is a lot of Quartz in the ground around my house , tall white oaks, when the thunder cracks our hair stands on end, one morning after a cracking booming thunderous night one of the oaks on the way to the barn fought back but the lighting won,and the five lines of chard bark stroked across the tree looked much like a giants hand had scratched it, and the poem was started.

[Tree]

Magical. I like that you're open to that kind of wonder. That kind of, possibility. There is not that kind of magic falling from the sky where I'm from, it's too mild. I guess most be grateful but it saddens me. I could use the occasional/ spark...

[Relic's Bare Trees]

Ahhhh, yes, I can see you're very good with concealing the real words. There's a lot of imagination in this. You are very skilled at your craft. Great writing.

[Southern Cross]

speaks with sensual imagery. I could feel the lust.."Hair and eyes a blaze, arched chest, wings spread wide,
Legs fit and long across her feathered nest,
Sweat beads between her breast,
Swollen points crying for him to come back," Written with class and never quelling the lust..Well done This and my coffee (black) has jump started my morning :)

[Victoria PoetryBunny]

Such a poetic writing with great detail, vocabulary and imagery. Such a poetic piece... hard to pick out any good spot. Nice write.

[That_Girl]

The imagery is outstanding and the poem itself is seamless. Nice!

[lee von cleef]

thank you I hope you time was not wasted.

[That_Girl]

No, definitely not. :)

[captain]

i like this very rich in imagery!

[lee von cleef]

Go read Fiery Angel by Flar2me, hot gal

[Ruth]

Wow!
You have definitely got an imagination that is so vivid, it is blinding!
I am in awe :)
xo

[lee von cleef]

Read the fiery angel by Flar2me now she is hot!

[Ruth]

Ok love :) xo

[John]

I reckon that given the right context every verb is a synonym for sex. In this piece (Good God), every adjective and noun and probably all the other words as well are positively tumescent with the cordial of life.

[lee von cleef]

May we lift the cordial and aperitif too ,

[emmajoy]

There's a saying over here, 'All power to your elbow', referring to the raised arm when drinking .. but here it's all power to your fingers for writing/typing and your mind for creating such a vivid painting. Your thoughts cross boundaries, etch into thoughts.. incredible,

'At the base of a towering white oak, lighting fingers scratched chard
Five lines chalking down the bark,
Black the square he yanked and the oak groaned.'

[lee von cleef]

Boundaries, keep the game flowing, crossing them tests our inner compass.