Neckerchiefs and kissing are required.

a love poem

 

 

It's ok if you jiggle on the side. I like you this way.

Or if you stand on your tippy toes to reach Uranus. And it's

ok that your hips make those marshmallows in the sea.

Recipes have no soul. Plump

is a verb.

An adjective.

A noun, which I know is little comfort

to your spirit world.

 

Are you hollow like a giant skin

or wind? Plus or minus, approximately;

I dare you. Get on the scale, let it

hum and run and run

to the prime number

any integer other than zero

will attend. Then stand in victory

needle pointing to your misery.

Excuse me!

 

Can I get by. Now don't go talking that

Fin Fin bullshit again. Remember the last

time you were starving like a light on fire.

I didn't know when a man made love

the sounds old sheets could make.

It's serious now..

You are beloved.

Your magnificent. Giant.

Can you preserve like cherries or beets?

Can you fit in a jar?

 

And if you do, should I rinse your lid with

a warm river to remove you?

Can you stir like a stew? Do you sag

like a grape in the sun by a lake?

It's ok, if you do.

As the shadows that gather as darkness comes.

Do your bones show thru,

like a bulge in a slip

 

I won't mistake you, making

a dance out of the bathroom rug.

Give it a tug.

Make it go POW!

Let it explode. Leave me alone.

Make it a slope. Big lovers float.

 

Well out of sight. Then what will I do.

Forever

miss you.

Reviews

[Tree]

Yes, this is a love poem. In the truest sense. The tone and the emotion float, on the surface of your piece like a sheet of lily pads, in a pond. You skip from word to word and stanza to stanza with wonder, and deep affection. A moving and affecting piece; well done Dana

Diego

[Shmoke-Sifted Heftlander]

well said

[Ken Simm.]

Finding a shape. Round is a shape. This is a poem of love. Spoken to the object of that love and showing all that love. I was moved by this.

[Leslie Philibert]

A poem that I like a lot, with lots of original imagery, especially like the third verse, although a bit bemused by Fin Fin bullshit. I understand it too as a love poem, unusual and full of very visual, careful imagery. I`m not too sure that plump is a noun, but that`s poetic license, it fits well. So congratulations on an excellent poem.

[Shmoke-Sifted Heftlande..]

I think I might have chosen to save the world and lose my soul
I haven't exactly met with the counsel on the matter yet
I'll just keep monitoring your beautiful sentiments
I won't let them somersault out of my head and mistake them for
eh..IDK, this is a beautiful poem
I wish I had this kind of focus
I can't type a poem right now, because it'd be cheating at the moment
but it jumps through windows to kiss my mother's forehead wearing a cape of smoke
the cape folded itself into a helmet where it homes my stupid thoughts

[Shmoke-Sifted Heftlander]

p.s. not a typo, there *sigh*

[Corset]

If I could just reach a little further, through this glass, if I could get my hands around your thick a*s neck, if I could , If I could ... I'd wring you're neck, that's it, I'm starting smoking again :( grrrrrrrrrrrrr