It’s a predicament, it’s a predicament,
it’s a saucer of urge–
unmistakably a loud speaker that cannot be located.
It’s angst filled poetry,
it’s shattering confessions to mute parts of the body.
Flavour me, red
make my mouth numb for several minutes;
why isn’t there a doorway that leads straight into
a pool of desire?
It’s hot whispers traveling from one ear to another
in a crowded room,
it’s the constant ebb and flow of a river.
It’s an open space, it’s delight in disorder–
it’s thinking one knows the other person well enough.
Photo credits: Paul Biddle Conceptual Art, Pinterest
Day Four ~ Caution: Tender Buttons
Posted for “Play It Again” @ Real Toads
I love it! I think you’ve out-Gertruded Gertrude. 🙂
Bwahahahahahahhaha that was the plan!💄❤️ Thank you so much, Rosemary 😍 so glad you enjoyed it!💄❤️
I love the idea of the hot pepper rendering the poet mute – an excellent trope.
Thank you so much, Kerry 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
I agree with Rosemary, Sanaa! I love the ‘saucer of urge’ and ‘shattering confessions to mute parts of the body’.
Thank you so much, Kim 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
It’s a pepper all right❣️❣️Skillfully done👏
❤️❤️❤️
Those first two lines….coupled with the image (where did you ever find that???) — HOT!
Thank you so much, Lillian 😀 so good to see you 💄❤️
Absolutely beautiful Sanaa!
Thank you so much, Linda 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
This was fun, Sanaa , even though it was hard for me to find meaning. But isn’t that the cubist art of Picasso that way.
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Thank you so much, Jim 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
Yes, hot pepper mute…love it. This stream of consciousness made me smile.
Thank you so much, Susie 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️