Wednesday, November 26, 2008

History of Eff: Poetry Edition.

I came across some poems and prose from long, long ago. Many of them are cryptic, arbitrary or completely inspired by literature. Others are personal memoirs. In any case, here is the first of a few that I hope you will enjoy..

crescendo.

[era uoy.]
per- a perf- mind [i'm] eager to understand perfe-, a perfec- passion that burns to touch. you are the knowledge i just might forget, only so that i'll remember again. you're a velveteen laugh and shiny eyes, lips that pout to let me know just how bad you want, and just how very much you need. you are a treasure waiting to be, i am the appraiser who sees through common novelty.

[lrig elttil ym.]

you are the breath on my neck, and i just may be the hand on your thigh, the fingers through your hair. the too short shorts you'll wear to bed when the heat's too much to bear. you're knee-high black cotton socks and mary janes, and i'm the raised eyebrows they induce. while your pleated skirt sways over viciously pale-smooth thighs, my collar-and-tie grin shines. a sense of touch unfurls in violent disbelief as long, skeletal pleasure-tools slide closer, closer to. fingernail tapdance along a silky plateau, a shiver to acknowledge a job now well in progress.

[hself gnuoy gnignis.]
a waltz on ivory adapted to what might be the soundtrack of you and i, and it's big beats and loud drums. it's trumpets and a triangle played all so heavenly. it's your screaming violin solos perfectly accenting my weeping cello sweeps, so in hands held between us, an amphitheater packed with eager ears. watching, listening for this music held so dear and yet we two are the only ones who hear, the symphony of sound, of godly melody and ups and downs and i, and i..

[tra.]
fresh blood on blinding white porcelain. sudden bursts of energy. sleepless nights and hunting knives. you and i.

1 comment:

Hanne said...

You have a way with words. But you know that, I'm sure.