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Donner Party, around the kettle, waxing poetic.
nugunz

You smiled like the beget of love
 1
through a young Ingrid Bergman and the Mona Lisa
 2
coupled.
 3
Something about your eyes, even
 4
flat.captured in the melancholy of black and white,
 5
spoke to me the things you never could;
 6
skimming through an unloved copy of American Poetry
 7
Your charred offering, whole worlds, generations
 8
old morals, away.
 9
 
 
Sixty years ago, yeah darlin
 10
I would have used myself down to the cells
 11
to be that deadly lust
 12
thrust like a sonnet, under your tongue.
 13
 
 
I could have
 14
fixed you.
 15
 
 
That's what I
 16
tell
 17
myself.
 18
 
 
I would have pulled manic lullabies from your lips
 19
and kissed the tracks down your thighs
 20
until they became the Boston stars.
 21
We would have read the past
 22
through those ebony constellations.
 23
 
 
Bipolar halos in streetlights
 24
Hands held cupped,
 25
Love overflow thy needle-point palms
 26
 
 
I would have made love to you, to you
 27
to you, sweet Anne.
 28
Take from the value of my touch
 29
and make it yours.
 30
enter me entirely.
 31
Lay still, sweet Anne, sigh
 32
still, and bare, and think
 33
no more.
 34
 
 
Friendships, fathers, daughter, suicide. Silence
 35
broken clocks in bare rooms.
 36
Carbon dated headstones
 37
Friendships fathers daughter suicide entombed
 38
She slept, then dreamt, no more,
 39
no more.
 40
And I was born sixty years late,
 41
come to know you like some lust-spun anthropologist
 42
digging holes to Cleopatra.
 43
 
 
A woman like that,
 44
you must have known her kind.
 45
 
 
As for me, I think your work
 46
will always be close to my heart
 47
and beautiful
 48
In the same ways that human flesh
 49
is so nourishing to a starving man.
 50
 
 
Something akin
 51
to harbor my sadness.
 52
I feel most akin to you
 53
 
 
when I don’t feel like myself.
 54
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
.
 55

11 Jul 08

Rated 10 (10) by 2 users.
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Comments:

hmm, is this about Anne Sexton. i think she's a poet but
i'm not really sure. nice flow. nice writing.

thanks and welcome to PC.
: )
 — fractalcore

um, i think the question mark lost its head after Sexton?
oh there it is...
: )
 — fractalcore

Good eye. :D
 — nugunz

you are on a quest to drown yourself in the imbroglio of Love angles where in reality you are disentangled Angels -- you may lose yourself in  this way as they say it is ALLways all or nothing -- where Nothing begets the All that is -- you're allured to metaphor in metaphysical ways I'd say where your metonym are smilies of what'd you'd say at a musical disposition -- to not feel your self when feeling some one else is deliciously merged
 — AlchemiA

"ebony" is kind of in the way of "constellations"-- makes for constipated reading.
 — unknown

I disagree with you, unknown.  I like the way it reads, and the way the words come off the tongue.  And I feel that removing "ebony" from the line would through off the flow.
 — nugunz

well, maybe a replacement?

I think of ebony as being a shiny black surface- like that of a piano, the contrast being very specific. Out there in the great unknown is a more colourless extreme where only "nothingness" seems to suit, but even then language does not suffice to ably describe that kind of void.
 — unknown

Herion tracks. Not literal stars. Not literal space.
 — nugunz

HerOin, even.
 — nugunz

there is a lot to digest here,
so i am having a hard time consuming, and commenting on the whole.

beginning with line 27, i felt the poem shifted, as if you were writing a different poem.  in that case, the voice didn't sound consistent.

i like your passion and intensity, but find it untamed and a little repetitive in areas. but saying that, is not meaning to offend.  this is a good, heavy poem, but it just might go on too long.
you've captured a true, obsessive feeling in the end, and i do very much like it.  

also, line 20 is great line.
this poem is very manic.
thanks for letting me comment.

jen-  =-)
 — jenakajoffer

oh yes i forgot,
why all the white space when the poem is finished?
i see the period way down there, but it looks odd.
 — jenakajoffer

Thanks Jenna.  Yeah, I'm still playing with this one.  It ends, but it isn't finished, but really I left all that space there just for aesthetic reasons.  I didn't like how the page goes right from poem to the blue links at the bottom of the page.

I'll work with it.  Thanks for the feedback.
 — nugunz

I should say, that since this poem is inspired by, and written for Anne Sexton, it feeds a little bit from her work.  Especially in lines 27-34. So that may be where you're getting that "two different poems" vibe. This is sort of a fanboy poem, and if you aren't familiar with the subject then, you might not entirely get it.

But then agian, that's not the point of poetry.  You make your own connections, so it doesn't really matter if you "get" what I'm writing about here. I'm going to shut up now :P
 — nugunz

I love it. It's so dark and gothic, the descriptions so visceral and raw. It reads like a 60s beat poet's dream. I would pull l54 up to the previous stanza instead of leaving it as a line on its own, simply because whilst reading this, I don't feel a great persona coming through - it's more an address than a self-relating piece, you know what I mean?

Good job man.
 — wendz

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