Lush

He is the moon and one thousand suns.
My caffeine at one thirty in the morning.
The rhythm of his heart beat traces the outline of my ear.
He's here
for the time being.
He is the man who played "happiness is a warm gun"
Not that the song about John Lennons penis gives me the feeling of love
but he.
Three days since
and I am reminded every agonizing moment.
The taste of tobacco lingers motionless under my tongue
even then
I feel him breathing in my lips
as if he wanted to imprison me inside his cloudy, smoke drowned lungs.
When I look into his tireless blue eyes
I see the reflection of my poorly lit cigarette
glossed over by an artsy exhale of cancer.
he doesn't know
but
everytime my stare catches his, I take a mental poloroid
where I hide under a floorboard of forgotten memories
until I catch another shot of his clumsy perfection.
He is the man I wouldn't mind painting canvas after canvas of his beautiful
poorly structured hands.
I imagine them endlessly.
His guitar strumming fingertips gliding along what he calls damage.
It's been seven days
and the fever of his merciless skin is spreading through my love my barren veins
like a virus that won't give up.
you're species is a wonder,
but you..
you're the creature my blood craves.
The longer you are gone
the more I feel you wither through my grip.
Stranger, through your hungover ears
you are the ballad of your own lust.
I will play the arpeggio of your sinful broken heart.
He is where taste came from
and many other senses humans are unaware of.
He doesn't know.
He only knows where his feet take him
how his fingers move
and how many times he looks up from the "souls" of his shoes.
 he will forget my name
I can't make him stay long enough to learn the words
"je t'aime voux faire la'amour aux toi"
I love you, make love to me.


2009 - Brendi Streeter

Reviews

[Glen Yumang Manese]

This takes a longer narrative...from the first two...more events happening in the lines as a reader goes down the lines...again your diction changes pace here...even in the end you use French terms to get into the whole meaning of the verse....

[Steve]

You are obvuously a great writer! Very nice words.

Please change the font though. Its hard to read.

[.......]

Wow this one has movement of the heart. Love the feelings.

[Sami Khalil]

The longer you are gone
the more I feel you wither through my grip.
My faves in this nice poem...:)

[Owlette]

Why thank you =] is there a specific reason this line intrigues you? I'm interested in what you have to say and why it moves you

[Sami Khalil]

The metaphor of wither and losing your hold or grip of him or love...That is all.
You are welcome...

[steppenwolf]

Love this. So, so sexy, romantic, loaded with wonderful images.

[Owlette]

hahaha excellent feedback thank you =D

[Jack...]

This is a very special piece and your back story made it all that much more. Wonderfully done and so full of life and a little pain.

[Owlette]

I really am thankful for positive feedback =] very encouraging, thank you Jack!

[Owlette]

@John. In the sentences I placed "he" was simply speaking of him, where as the "you" portion, I felt that it would be more powerful to present this story as if I were talking to him but at the same time give the reader a sense of my passion as if they knew him as I did. This poem was a series of lust, about a man I met on an art walk. I was so moved by him and his persuasive mannerisms that I fell in love for a moment. I had written this specifically for him to hear. I was a poetry slammer at his favorite tea house. After the night we met, I never heard from him again but he was a friend on facebook, so I figured I would make an attempt to invite him. It was my turn behind the microphone, this was a big moment and the only chance I had to move him in high hopes that he would recognize this story, as I stood up there I noticed he didn't show up. Within a couple sentences I lost it and I cried but I kept going. I eventually came to the conclusion that this story wasn't as much for him as it was for me to vent in some incognito manner. Anyway, the diversity is intentional purely to create a sense of presence the those who hear. There is a method to my madness ;D

Thank you Falon & John! Positive feedback and constructive criticism is the perfect formula for an improving writer =]

[Falon Quirke]

I really like this poem. I love the use of metaphors and your descriptions are very thorough. This is truly wonderful.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

I like this it, meanders with a longing passion and expresses in metaphors a fixation. I did get confused though as two thirds through you change the person to 'you' from 'h'e?