~The poet uses the butterfly net of language to catch fleeting images in mid-flight~

Friday, February 25, 2011

The Poet

Pen in hand
Poised over paper
I am
Like a dart
Ready to stick the target
And release the venom
Of intoxication
I am hoping
To make you dizzy and drool
With hot flashes
And pounding heart
And all vital signs elevated
I want you to feel
The Elixir
Invade your veins
And incite rivers
Of your blooded Passion

Happy I am
To sweep away the congestion
Of your heart
And see you sweat salty beads
Of your own distilled Histories
Let my quill enter your nose
And find your brains
And pierce what you know
So that you can collapse
Upon the couch
Of the ultimate therapy
And in your confession
Be healed
Of your dimness
And your constant
Chafing concern
For security


  1. whew..nice write...i think there is a typo in the opening line...or i am missing the cultural relevance...i like this...the up the nose part is a bit vivid...but it shakes you up...security is something that people cling to...esp women...so i get this.

  2. Yes poetry is song, poetry is beauty, poetry is art and here where written in blood is when poetry finds the aching and disturbing truth, where words worm into your safe abode and rattle that plesant security of self dillusion. Well written piece. Thanks, Gay

  3. intense...i think you accomplished what you set out to do. the nose bit made me twitch a bit...lovely verse.

  4. elegant piece.
    be proud of being a poet.

    signed in to follow your blog...welcome following us back..