Description: i heard him talking to his mother today.
he called her 'Mommy' without thinking.
made me think how he was once a tiny fetus curled up inside a woman's tummy.
men are surprising little changelings, aren't they...
how they can go from romantic to adorable in the blink of an eye.
i've been here three years this time.
still he postures in an attempt to impress me.
silly man.
Embrace c. by ruejacobs 4/2/09 12am -------------------------------------------
Cradle search
Pendulum sway
The dance of a crone
The fist of a man
The way things drift underwater
And the way things float in space
Here is what I missed:
His tongue bone-smooth against my thigh
His breath stroking the skin there
Not his hands, not his hands
Acquisitive and fumbling at his belt
-or mine-
What a clumsy little boy he was
Just nineteen
I was younger, yes
(but, my goddess!
I knew so much more by then than he!)
How I could fake a wide-eyed innocent
(I still can)
do you recall when you rarely gave anything away regarding what you had written?
descriptions invariably went along the lines of:
this poem is about communication and;
mushroom cloud in my mouth...
you old softy.
however, despite the giveaway stuff before the poetry that you have written you have still written something obvious, but with enough mystery in it to make it - mysterious.
you would have painted stuff on cave walls not too many years ago. or at least ground the pigments for the tadpoles and then passed them the (burning) brushes...
very artistic written, I feel touch by the passages you wrote , intense harmony in every word , emotional strength breathes in your poem , the energy spreading throughout each sentence , i'm so amaze , this is a very fine tune poetry , execellent , I salute you , great poem , keep writing
i think what i love most about you, is this strength that you always exude (and i envy that)(and not in a bad harboring way), yet there is a tenderness underneath. (and a whole lot of other stuff packed in there too (smile)). and i will tell you what, if i ever need someone to back me up, i'd call you.
there is this strange fight going on, but a recognition of it, if that makes sense. interesting to me, is how the power of man, and the power of woman, differ. (and oh how they do)! you know my ex never called his mother by anything other than her given name. she was always betty. (but he was a mama's boy in a weird way).
i love these lines -
How I could fake a wide-eyed innocent
(I still can)
Womb fish
Merman
Everyone starts out with a tail
and sometimes, it's about those very first tender moments of learning about someone...
i am intrigued by this, by the way it reads out, and most especially the imagery this contains: i think you show yourself as a strong woman, full of desires and wisdom and a certain sense of tongue in cheek control... comparable to anais nin with her literature, and how her words broke the rules of feminine etiquette at the time.
so, everyone starts out with a tail? a sperm-tadpole-like tail, you mean? that's an interesting revelation you impart, and at the very end too, which i hold tantamount to unlocking the rest of this piece. even without your accompanying picture, i would've still pictured it as so...
hmm.
just some passing thoughts i thought i'd share.
Submission Name: Embrace c. by ruejacobs 4/2/09 12am
