Collaboration with the one and only, Corey Rowley...Thanks for doing this bud.
OF COUGARS AND GODS
She spoke to me in dance
of knives in her crimson hair,
stroking my desire, with
the flutter of razorblades
in her voracious eyes.
Her scent, musty and ripe,
like the smell of dead dreams,
telling of the sophistication
of her animal (cougar) years.
Song one God played on vinyl
A ditty He called Lust
Her cuts were not made deeply
But her blades were edged with rust
Song two God played Experience
Through a tinny megaphone
For years of making men from boys
By cutting to the bone
She laid my gaudy days to rest,
on a bed of shattered glass
and sat on their shoulders (playfully),
"It goes down better when it bleeds",
she said, cracking a sadistic smile.
Her burlesque fingers nailed me
to the ground, burning my skin
like the butt of a cigarette
her lips extinguish on mine.
The third a song of Reality
As she took me for a ride
The cuts turn to smoking stabs
Wounds you cannot hide
God spins the fourth, the song of death
A tune they both adore
She trades the knives for a Samurai blade
My head rolls 'cross the floor
She cat-walked over the blood
stained carpet (nonchalant as always),
cut into my cranium and
kissed my eyes good night
while breathing lilies on my face.
Her hands, cold as summer snow,
burning the memory of me
onto her mantle; Corey on
my right, her third husband on the left.
Very nice...the singsong quality fashioned from disparate styles of two poets...
sensational imagery of one we love seen as a goddess with qualities thar are otherworldly...ho in our mind we subject ourselves to their every godly whim...like the male Praying Mantis that loves his queen as if there were no tomorrow because for him there IS NO TOMORROW...
I wonder if there would be divorce if we all loved that way...thought provoking...
Great poem...
this is phenomonal, it reads with varied perspective, as if there are three
things going on at once, the temptress, the witness and the memory.
these lines- Her cuts were not made deeply- But her blades were edged with
rust adds to the tragedy keyly, the cougar, the animal years, the feline
one the prowl, the sensuous goddess that can steal the soul of any man
with her two edged gaze, depthfully charged and brilliant work here
This is so Selene-esque, beautiful, and surreal. The incorporation of songs throughout really made this poem flow. They added warmth to the cold blood fire of the Cougar. If I were to quote my favorite lines, I would literally point to every stanza multiple times. Well done!
This cougar you describe so well, reminds me of a siren vixen. This is great you two work well together. This is very mind blowing, especially the end. 2 thumbs up!
What a strong descriptive piece, I was fascinated by this creature.......and her hold! Congratulations to both of you........brilliant! Loved the inclusion of Corey!
She cat-walked over the blood
stained carpet (nonchalant as always),
cut into my cranium and
kissed my eyes good night,
while breathing lilies on my face.
Her hands, cold as summer snow,
burning the memory of me
onto her mantle; Corey on
my right, her third husband to the left.
The name is Ivan - I'm 31. I am originally from Bosnia and Herzegovina. I left my country in 94 because of the civil war. After emigrating, my family lived in France for 2 years before coming to Canad.. more..