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Monthly Archives: December 2016

Maitresse-En-Titre

31 Saturday Dec 2016

Posted by boatbear in poetry

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Tags

English, freeverse, literature, mistress, poetry, Writing


He will hate me for knowing it,
Loathe her for thinking it,
Wish himself free of it,
Keep the triangle caught in it.

I am not a Pompadour,
Nor a Maintenon or Montespan.
He is not the Sun or it’s son.
He is low and I am less.

His gaze of rays doesn’t shine on me,
But passes me over, though I know he sees.
He will remember, preserved in a memory,
Trapped in that moment, that touch.

She will fade, grow dull by time.
I will linger in thought, in mind.
My touch, my lips, my breath.
I will be his vice, she the victor.

Devoured

30 Friday Dec 2016

Posted by boatbear in poetry

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Tags

English, freeverse, literature, poetry, wordporn


He picks at every layer
Dissecting slowly, slowly, slowly
Lips inhale her
As the tongue tastes.

Poor doe, she had no chance.
The woods are wild and he –
He marked her as his own

Finally he had her.
He could take her down
– Make her his forever.
Consume her.

Knowing her, he knows
How to hunt.
She’s a well-thumbed book,
He’s an avid reader.

They tussle and fight
But slowly he subdues her.
Lays her down
Makes the fatal blow.

Claws out, teeth bared, eyes gleaming
He devours her.
Down to the bone, the core.
He has every inch of her.

He was so hungry.
Now he is almost too full.
She seemed to fill him,
Stuff him more than the others.

Why would she let him have her?
And so easily.
She knew his hunger.
She needed to satisfy.

Soon, he would finish.
Eventually he would be hungry again.
He ate his fill that night,
She was gone by the end.

He laid back, stuffed and satisfied.
Glanced at the meal’s remains,
What a mess he’d made.
And so he left.

He was never good at cleaning up.

Sleep Evaded

30 Friday Dec 2016

Posted by boatbear in poetry

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Tags

English, freeverse, literature, poetry, wordporn

I am trying.
To quiet a mind that won’t rest.
I lay quietly in the dark,
Surround myself with softness –
With warmth.

Small creature comforts.
Yet every moment of my days
Spins out of my head.
Writhing long tangled tangents

Thoughts curled into my hair,
A Medusa of intellect.
The peace of being a statue alluring.
Reverse metamorphoses.

I lay still and quiet,
My mind screams.
A swirling whirlpool, undertow
Beneath serene seas.

Sleep evades me.

Enveloped

30 Friday Dec 2016

Posted by boatbear in poetry

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Tags

English, freeverse, literature, love, poetry, wordporn


Enveloped
In a glow of the new
Trapping the moment
Ensconcing it in memory.

An attempt to stretch it
Preserve something
That slips so quickly
Fades into nothing

Wrapped in the warmth
A trail of fingers
A synchronicity of beats
A lapping of tongues

Breath on breath
The air thick and heavy
A heady potent perfume
Skin on fire

New, fresh and pure.
I’ll trap it under glass
Frame it in my hall of memories.

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