WillowedCabin
Experienced
- Joined
- May 25, 2010
- Posts
- 67
I need some help on a slam piece I'm writing for work. It's going to end up being a multi-media thing with images of subway cars and sounds from the New York metro in the background. Now, this piece is causing me some agony but, like any good mommydearest , I can't just throw my baby in the garbage. Yet. Help me tear this apart?
Subway Dancer
--------------------
She moves.
And I'm ill-
composed, eroded
posing imploded
concaven conversely
to Her compositions.
for Cupid's counterpointed arrows have pierced
Through haze and steel and concrete
gutters and checkered shutters
that rattle and play chorus to
the most beautiful creature
I've ever laid pen to.
She sways.
and I dissolve
Pop, pop, fissure
One heartbeat at a time
Broken and beaten
I pool in subway strobe-light, then
disintigrate at Her delta
and dig my grave in Her distance
while those monkeybars 'round my heart
Wheeze and sigh
Longing for the light from Her eyes
Or the shinning half-moons of Her nails.
She dances.
And I am sweetest nothing!!
shadows behind Her knees
the hollows of Her hips
the puckered slips of lips
pressed to breath I dream of soaring above-
Wind in my hair, I'll fly high
Above desolate arctic landscapes
Searching to land in warmer climbs
Between the shrug of Her shoulders
And the hip-hop of Her thighs
but heistant, I tip-toe 'round Her purgatory
for it's slick with frost and
I worry if my tongue could traverse it
She moves.
But subway car screeches!
Breaching so the leaching
passengers can putz
swarming the form of my precious Salome.
And like a dove from the magician's hand
She's gone.
All I'm left with are her seven perfumed scarves.
Which, if tossed in neon lights, remind me of
the stark beauty of Her body, Her weaving dance
And the flush, glistening skin I never got to worship.
Subway Dancer
--------------------
She moves.
And I'm ill-
composed, eroded
posing imploded
concaven conversely
to Her compositions.
for Cupid's counterpointed arrows have pierced
Through haze and steel and concrete
gutters and checkered shutters
that rattle and play chorus to
the most beautiful creature
I've ever laid pen to.
She sways.
and I dissolve
Pop, pop, fissure
One heartbeat at a time
Broken and beaten
I pool in subway strobe-light, then
disintigrate at Her delta
and dig my grave in Her distance
while those monkeybars 'round my heart
Wheeze and sigh
Longing for the light from Her eyes
Or the shinning half-moons of Her nails.
She dances.
And I am sweetest nothing!!
shadows behind Her knees
the hollows of Her hips
the puckered slips of lips
pressed to breath I dream of soaring above-
Wind in my hair, I'll fly high
Above desolate arctic landscapes
Searching to land in warmer climbs
Between the shrug of Her shoulders
And the hip-hop of Her thighs
but heistant, I tip-toe 'round Her purgatory
for it's slick with frost and
I worry if my tongue could traverse it
She moves.
But subway car screeches!
Breaching so the leaching
passengers can putz
swarming the form of my precious Salome.
And like a dove from the magician's hand
She's gone.
All I'm left with are her seven perfumed scarves.
Which, if tossed in neon lights, remind me of
the stark beauty of Her body, Her weaving dance
And the flush, glistening skin I never got to worship.
