Prayer
Will you not squeeze
the thumb
of my hand
bite it
and watch
my eyes
at the same time
and
my mouth
please enter
my mouth
please enter
anywhere
you fit in
Poems on the topic: body
Poems on the topic “body” on Poets.by.
Queen • 3
I wish I could crawl
into myself
and roll away
I await
the true touching
of the Messianic Age
when
love and knowledge
replace
obscene curiosity
Getting older
Keep thinking
I havn't begun
Jesus
half a life
and
The Fish
I want to say that I've phoned you
a dozen times this week
and sometimes the dog has answered
and sometimes the parrot
and once
the imperturbable fish in their aquarium
revolved through my ear
like fossils of your tongue
(This is to be recited in those silences which come upon
bars when the juke box and the conversations stop at
the same time for no apparent reason.)
(This is to be recited in the laziness of Sunday afternoons
when yawns are buckets filling with sunlight.)
(This is to be recited late at night on a streetcorner as
the bus retreats into the distance, into the blurred
sound of old cities rusting under water.)
Feedback
as it sends out delicate rays.
to be sung, read, or eaten -like a meal
You never heard of solitude? It comes on
after the Late Show. The eyes drift
away from the movie. As far as possible
we tend to enjoy our bodies, see?
Across the great chasm, the cowboy peered.
* * *
The shape of his
head is not the shape
of the world. It satisfies itself
there.
Have some grapes. Two
breasts. Breathing behind them. Ships
just back out. He makes
the round in his head.
To be a girl
empty faces filled with guilt
watch the girls as they dealt
with judgemental stares and beady eyes
frowns that made them feel despised
grubby hands suggestive names
she does that you do the same
don't wear that -go here -look this way
your unwanted if you disobey
what is it like to be a girl
in this dirty awful world
to stand up tall is to be a wh**e
but to not lay down just closes doors.
control of my body is what I want
not magazines that laugh and taunt
not celebrity status skin and bones
but if your fat your on your own
biological reaction
with just a glance, i feel my body
roaring to life, with every cell rising
up in a passion as if in response to
you, my nerves sizzle with the stimulation
as heat rushes through me, filling me up
with great excitement as warmth
envelopes me and nestles deeply
in my chest. this biological reaction,
this primal need for fulfilment, of
starved crevices which yearn, brimming
with red hot desire, sending jolts of electricity
down my spine through my fingertips, finally
bursting out as
i see you smile, just as you always do, and my body slows with a shuddering jolt.
suddenly, all i can taste in my mouth is the overwhelming sweetness of you, you, you.
Winter Apps #1488
liquor store, linoleum
floor, wine she chose
was always deep red,
dark, bitter aftertaste,
unlike her bare torso,
which has in it
all that ever was
of drunkenness—
to miss someone terribly,
to both still be in love, as
she severs things because
she thinks she must—
exquisite torture, it’s
a different bare torso,
(my own) that’s incarnadine—
The Ghost of You
My bloodstream is full of cement,
My bones are the consistency of the 0 calorie jello I prayed would make me skinny.
My tongue is tainted with the taste of you, and oh god, you think it's funny.
You're the smell of stomach acid on my finger tips,
You look like skin wrapped ribcages and yellow teeth.
You're ghost lingers after dinner, and lulls me to sleep.
Hands
sometimes the hands
know best where the switch is
limbs know which way
to turn
turn off the will the
thought be led
by what obeys
remembers
those good dogs
like us limbs of an
all-knowing letting
us decide
Tom Tac's Running Sonnet
Like I'm a tongue in the mouth of the wind;
In my face or at my back it moves me,
A mouse in its pocket, or a weasel
According to what present song it sings,
Low and limpid, high or hollowly.
It's seven minutes now; I'm still grinning
Since no breath opposes in all this whirlwind.
Let this my hide be brown sun gold. Let this
My body make a melody in muscle,
Elevated quick when love crooks her thumb
To the exit that's an entrance to sky kingdoms.
As long as any snuff of wind can tone a whistle
To thrilled ears, I'm a note in that mad chant.
Cup
I am contained
in the cup of me.
Originally,
it is claimed, we came
from the sea.
Actually,
what emerged were versions
of something that could
turn into us. Nonetheless,
here I am, a full
cup of me,
a compound composed
of me, salt
water modified,
elaborated, prorated,
not quite yet
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