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Guitars ~ Poetry Thursday

July 20, 2006

ph_jul_guitar.jpg

Guitar ~ Canon 30d

Today's prompt at Poetry Thursday is Sex. {Blush}

I happened to stumble upon a poem I began a number of years ago this past weekend. Surprised by its lovliness, and a bit stunned I had actually written it, I was inspired and polished it to a smooth shine, thinking it was finished. But now after walking away and coming back to it I see there are a couple of lines in need of tender ironing. Too bad, because it would have fit today's theme perfectly. Poems have a way of tiptoeing around me this way, letting me know they're not quite ready to bloom fully.

Perhaps one day I will post it here, but for today, I share one about flirtatious unrequited fantasies.


Leaning, on his door
rocking, back and forth,
the latch pressed in
the crevice of my spine

His eyes, concerned
with deadlines and
business deals,
staring down flat panel displays
and checking for what must be
the make-it-or-break-it email

My eyes, hunting
for clues and gestures,
the tiniest expression
of hoped-for intentions
But finding not a lick of what
I'm looking for

Still I lean
against his door,
rocking
to and fro
Dancing on cusps
of openings
and closings

The Aeron chair deeply
pivots back,
relinquished to his postures
Backward glancing,
self-satisfied,
balancing act
so well-finessed on
Herman Miller's castors

A shiny guitar
lovely but lonely,
leans just
beyond his shoulder
She spies me,
leaning on the other side,
swaying and smoldering

"Oh!" the songs we sang!"
she calls to me,
"with chords like lips
pressed in
against my neck
His fingers softly
strumming out
the rhythms
from this hollow
My waist, once held
so tenderly
tucked soft inside his elbow"

She swoons
while sterile words
cross
his tongue,
tripping and
snaring me
like tangled up
ethernet cords

The guitar leans
and sighs,
I lean, and
something dies
against the latch
upon his door
rocking to and fro


~ SJP

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

In some ways, I find sharing my poetry on this blog rather daunting. Poems do not censure themselves as they work their way through the writer and I find there's a transparency and a vulnerability that comes with allowing others to peer into our inner verses. Poems, more than photographs and paragraphs, strum the closest of chords to my heart.

Posted by vincent at July 20, 2006 10:04 AM

Comments

Absolutely lovely. And yes, poetry speaks of the soul, from the soul to the soul of the reader. So pleased you are writing in this format again.

Posted by: janet at July 20, 2006 11:31 AM

Susan, this is gorgeous! Yes, it is unnerving thing to share poetry like this ... we're stripped bare. But you're good so keep it coming!!

Posted by: jzr at July 20, 2006 12:50 PM

this is such a lovely choice. the imagery is so vivid you can see it all being acted out. i'm so glad you shared it.

Posted by: la vie en rose at July 20, 2006 04:00 PM

oh, and i forgot to tell you how much i love this pic. now that i'm a guitar owner (i won't call myself a guitarist just yet) i'm going to have to attempt to capture some shots as yummy as this one.

Posted by: la vie en rose at July 20, 2006 04:02 PM

Just wonderful, Susan...

Posted by: dan at July 20, 2006 05:03 PM

Thanks for the positive feedback. You know when a moment occurs and you recognize in an instant it will be a moment you will long remember? That's what this was like. The clear-seeing moment when reality dawns on you.

Posted by: susan at July 20, 2006 09:41 PM