Archive for breasts

Succulence

October 29, 2009 at 5:28 pm · Filed under breast, breasts, lust, moon, poem, poetry, sea, sex

The poet is a butcher
who flays the wild beast
and peels back the dusty hide
to reveal muscle and bone
and the heart that once beat beneath.

There is skill and art
in the way he carves the meat,
trims the fat, exposes the grain
of truth in the tender, succulent
morsels that nourish.

The poet is a diver
who plumbs the depths for pearls,
milky tears shed into the sea
by a god who could not bear
a beauty too fine and rare.

The strand of shining moons
that light her night-clad breast,
and the blood-red steak
on bone-white china,
remind the poet of what comes next.

Leave a Comment

Nine Affirmations for Nine Nine Oh Nine

September 8, 2009 at 10:04 pm · Filed under God, breasts, cherry blossom, coffee, grape, human heart, legs, love, lovers, lunch, lust, moon, naked, night, poem, poetry, sex, sexual, song, star, tattoos, universe, womb

I will drink nine cups of coffee at nine;

I will plant nine acorns in nine holes
           on nine hills;

I will serve nine platters of nine cupcakes
          with nine candles;

I will send nine letters to nine editors
          on nine serious subjects;

I will tell nine friends nine secrets
          in nine languages;

I will feed nine sardines to nine cats
          with nine lives;

I will follow the nine commandments
          of the god of 729 names;

I will pleasure my ninth lover nine times
          at her nine erogenous zones;

I will compose nine songs of celebration
          for the eight planets

and Pluto, the cartoon dog.

Comments (2)

One Fallen Apple

August 24, 2009 at 11:22 pm · Filed under apple, apples, breast, breasts, love, lovers, poem, poetry, seed, sex, sexual

It was the day of falling apples.
The tree was heavy with fruit,
branches taut under the pull of
languorous weight. The morning
breathed thick tongued, dull
eyed, waking from a dream.
There came a sudden wind
that grabbed the tawny limbs,
slender as the blue veined wrists
of young maidens, and shook.
Down plopped apples,
    one
                             two
               five
a        staccato        fusillade,
hoofbeats of mare and stallion.
The man flinched at the first
fat raindrop. He had been
considering the apples, firm,
pale with a faint pink blush,
breasts, one in each hand,
weighing them in his mind.
He cleaved one apple, stem
to stern, to reveal its
five chambered heart, with
five seeds like hard brown tears,
one each for the four winds
and one for the lover who had
blown him away.

Comments (5)