Voting Thread: Cupid's Arrow

[Sappho and Eros]

VOTING IS CLOSED

Voting ends: Feb. 8


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Select your two favorite poems from the selection below then vote in the poll. Anyone may vote.

1. For the birds

Up against the wall
your hands in mine
kissing you good night.

I'll have you know this is real...
when my heart is with you
and you're not

For the birds it is not
never will be

For you yes it is
For me yes it is

For the birds it is not
never will be

Do you feel that?
i'll hold you for as long as I may
May I...
May I?

Don't ask
It's for the birds you see
For the birds

For the birds it is not
never will be

You're soft, smooth and inviting
Let me touch you
feel the smoothness
between your toes

Oh yes, i would take you right here
A quiver in the muscle of your thigh
Your nipple coral and taut

For the birds it is not
never will be

This is love, My Love
always will be


~


2. Her Man


"I love you"
and the poem should end here.
Beyond love, I am a weary stem
that lets go the last petal.

Though never a bloom to begin with,
perhaps a thorn. You pricked me
with warning,

"Don't fall."

A man who belongs
will not open his arms.

I know impact.
I love you,
and it will never end there.

I'm a crooked woman, adoring
with crumpled heart,
broken with delight,
because I hit hard
for you, her man.


~


3. Write for Me


Her lips write for me
A soliloquy in desire,
Spoken with caresses.
As we share memories
Through knowing smiles.
Eyes that hint innuendos
With simple glances
In public places
Of private moments.


~


4. Experienced I

Until recently I was an artist, I
passed exams and
won awards
but I never could limn
our love.

Now my field is folded
and brushes dry, I can
clearly see the colours.
I know I could paint
a perfect portrait
now our love has settled,
reclining ripe on white sheets
or under blue and green canopy
familiar as your flannel shirt.

If only it hadn’t run
from my palette
or hid in the creases
of the daily grind
before I lost my art.


~


5. This Love Must Die

I write meager for my love-
she, dying, airborne bird,
feathered on currents above.

I pen a delicate word.
Alas! But trifling gifts
for her, who dies like a bird.

My bulbous heart, it lifts
as day's brilliant light drops.
Alas! More trifling gifts.

I'll paint my evening crops,
shame the green from its hill
as brilliant light drops.

Some other winged one I would kill
for her breath, even though
it would shame the crops and hill.

Perhaps a meager gift I bestow,
this final verse for my love,
of her lasting breath, even though
she's feathered on currents above.



6. EXHIBITION- not for voting


Exhibition:

lay your hands
on my anthology
glossy, open to the page
where boy finds girl
in a temporary state of paralysis
and licks his thumb

I will hum when you get to the good parts
until I tire of metaphor and pull your shoulders down
squeeze you with my thighs
wrap you in tighter and tell you
this is all there is
this page
this page
where you love me until my spine cracks
and something tears

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Please vote in all three Voting Threads: Sappho, Eros and Cupid's Arrow​

 

[The Poets]

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