Would anyone care to assist me with this naughty poem?

[AlwaysHungry]

Seriously AH, you need to get a professional poet here.
I am fickle and I am now thinking I prefer 'silently' *I see you frowning at me* I mess with my own stuff FOREVER, cutting, pasting, moving, chopping, swapping, reverting..tweak! tweak! tweak! I would so not employ me for the job, particularly with my lack of credentials. This is your poem and these are only some alternatives from this mind showering with you, that I am throwing out there for you to consider, that might well make your poem worse rather than better.

There is always an option to trim and I like to move it! Move it!

First stanza, first line...possible alternative start...May I sing to you?...in my head this is more of a hook.
First stanza, sixth line could be...'to evoke' or 'evoking...just preferred how it reads in my head

And second stanza...

'Oh, darling, let me share
a paradox to make nostrils flare,
eyes to flash, lips to swear that
something now exists
that never did.'

Hon, this is free verse, or my case, rather blankly free verse. There are no rules, which frustrates me; if I were rhyming, a lot of these choices would be more or less imposed on me by the form. I get vertigo sometimes trying to write this way, and so having alternatives from another mind showering with me is just the ticket.

I think your suggestion about the first line is a good one. This poem is about writing poetry, but it is also a love poem. In a certain sense, it is a poem about writing poetry as an alternative to sex -- part of the continuing electron torture series. So, I like the more personal touch of "May I sing to you?" (and it makes structural sense, because of the "would you like to sing to me? that comes later.) But on the other hand, I need to keep that personal touch in the second stanza -- it is my lover's nostrils, eyes and lips that I think of as I write, so must keep the "your" in front of each.

You have put me in a quandary now with regard to "silently" vs. "soundlessly." I think for now that I will revert to "silently" because I am slightly annoyed by the repetition of "lessly" that I get with "soundlessly breathlessly".

May I assume that "spark" and "inkling" work for you better than "whiff" and "wink"? They are words without a specific sensory reference.

May I sing to you
silently
breathlessly?
let these, my intimating syllables
caress your memory,
allow them to evoke
a nascent glimmering,
a spark, an inkling, then

Oh, darling, let me share
a paradox to make your nostrils flare,
your eyes to flash, your lips to swear
that something now exists that never did.

Would you like to sing to me?

Sing a song of sixth sense,
teach me how to fly

above the ordinary flux
of feelings, not just
going through emotions.
I'll repay your intuition
with beholden ears,
with the kind of wide-eyed dawning
that goes on and on
for years.

Are we well versed, my darling?
Let's aspire
to catch a thought between us,
to seize it,
and to tease it into something new and sweet,
to unfold in all dimensions
'til it flutters off, complete,
and you and I will grapple
sense to sense and soul to soul,
until we meet
in shuddering
apotheosis.

 

[AlwaysHungry]

after more tinkering:

May I sing to you
silently
breathlessly?
let these, my intimating syllables
caress your memory,
allow them to evoke
a nascent glimmering,
a subtle spark, an inkling...

then, darling, let me share
a paradox to make your nostrils flare,
your eyes to flash, your lips to swear
that something now exists that never did.

Would you like to sing to me?

Sing a song of sixth sense,
teach me how to fly

above the ordinary flux
of feelings, not just
going through emotions.
I'll repay your intuition
with beholden ears,
with the kind of wide-eyed dawning
that goes on and on
for years.

Are we well versed, my darling?
Let's aspire
to catch a thought between us,
to seize it,
and to tease it into something new and sweet,
to unfold in all dimensions
'til it flutters off, complete,
and you and I will grapple
sense to sense and soul to soul,
until we meet
in shuddering
apotheosis.

 

[HoneyAdored]

......

 

[AlwaysHungry]

Thank you, Hon. I actually don't believe in making a "personal writing" public. I think that the task of the artist is to find in his or her personal experience something universal, and then share that with the universe. In my case, which is probably not unique, I find I need poetry to help me grapple with strong emotions, help me resolve inner turmoil, but I try to do that by connecting the personal to the universal, so that it makes sense to me, and hopefully becomes interesting to other people.

 

[AlwaysHungry]

This came out rather abruptly, and I would appreciate any critique that people have to offer:

To A Poetess

Remember me, my love, for I am he
Who loves to roam the landscapes of your verse,
To visit every image, and immerse
Mine ear in your intrepid euphony.

In solemn rows of text, your words invite
My mind into the vistas you portray,
To walk amidst the columns where I may
Encounter you in every line you write.

In mirth, in tears, in struggle, I explore
The lyric nooks and crannies of your heart,
That every revelation may impart
A keener sense of you than heretofore.

Another stanza, and your hand entwines
With mine, so soft! So supple! and you dare
To guide me to a fine convergence, where
My questing fingers read between the lines.

A bounty of suggestion in your eyes
And on the page, in those familiar signs,
Like distant singing as the sun declines,
That summons my believer to arise.

O let the liquid words come flowing on,
As thick and fragrant as a summer's eve
That glistens on your lips! Make me believe
This night will swell in sweetness 'til the dawn!

 

[AlwaysHungry]

After a point was raised to me by PM about the ambiguity of the next-to-last stanza, I am making it more explicit, so:

A bounty of suggestion in your eyes
And on the page, in those familiar signs,
A call to prayer as the sun declines
That summons my believer to arise.

 

[Minervous]

This came out rather abruptly, and I would appreciate any critique that people have to offer:

To A Poetess

Remember me, my love, for I am he
Who loves to roam the landscapes of your verse,
To visit every image, and immerse
Mine ear in your intrepid euphony.

In solemn rows of text, your words invite
My mind into the vistas you portray,
To walk amidst the columns where I may
Encounter you in every line you write.

In mirth, in tears, in struggle, I explore
The lyric nooks and crannies of your heart,
That every revelation may impart
A keener sense of you than heretofore.

Another stanza, and your hand entwines
With mine, so soft! So supple! and you dare
To guide me to a fine convergence, where
My questing fingers read between the lines.

A bounty of suggestion in your eyes
And on the page, in those familiar signs,
Like distant singing as the sun declines,
That summons my believer to arise.

O let the liquid words come flowing on,
As thick and fragrant as a summer's eve
That glistens on your lips! Make me believe
This night will swell in sweetness 'til the dawn!

A (Probably Unintended Recipient) Poetess Responds

Italian quatrains in pentameter!
That's quite impressive, but it does not move
My heart nor head nor other parts to stir.
This body needs a different kind of groove,
To get its kitty cat to really purr.
Adapt for me, sweet poet! And now prove
That though Italian verse is how you woo,
Verse of another form is not taboo.

Ottava rima is a sprightly form,
Its first six lines entwined in just two rhymes
Which circle round each other and transform
Into a closing couplet where, betimes,
The two fuse into one—a perfect storm
Of sound and sense and beauty. So sublime
That I, mere reader, flushed with wild desire,
Am singed by verse as hot as any fire.

So if, dear sir, you'd trace between my lines
And "feel" my sense as if I wrote in Braille,
Try realigning words and recombine
Them into Form in which they might prevail
To scope my Intertextual Design—
Then, wantonly, I'll bare each trope's detail.
Ottava rima, then; please now revise
Your envelope. I will avert my eyes.

 

[AlwaysHungry]

To Minervous

'Tis said your namesake sprang from Zeus's brow,
And she forever as a virgin stayed.
Perhaps, although her suitors knew not how,
She needs a certain rhyme scheme to get laid.
Her fate shall not be yours, for even now
I honor the entreaty that you made.
If use ottava rima then I must,
Well, it's six rhyming lines, plus two, or bust.

 

[Minervous]

To Minervous

'Tis said your namesake sprang from Zeus's brow,
And she forever as a virgin stayed.
Perhaps, although her suitors knew not how,
She needs a certain rhyme scheme to get laid.
Her fate shall not be yours, for even now
I honor the entreaty that you made.
If use ottava rima then I must,
Well, it's six rhyming lines, plus two, or bust.

The Poetess Faults Her Admirer
for a Minor Break in Form

Sir Poet, here an honest try you've made
To venture into wilderness of form
In hopes, I'm guessing, it might get you laid.
Alas! Your verse just doesn't quite conform—
And Rules are Rules. It's how this Game is played.
The metrics of line eight don't fit your norm.
You stress on Well, six, rhym-, lines, two and bust¹,
And in my scansion, that does not prime Lust.



¹ Six stresses in ten syllables, kind Sir,
Are not iambic, nor pentameter.

 

[AlwaysHungry]

The Poetess Faults Her Admirer
for a Minor Break in Form

Sir Poet, here an honest try you've made
To venture into wilderness of form
In hopes, I'm guessing, it might get you laid.
Alas! Your verse just doesn't quite conform—
And Rules are Rules. It's how this Game is played.
The metrics of line eight don't fit your norm.
You stress on Well, six, rhym-, lines, two and bust¹,
And in my scansion, that does not prime Lust.



¹ Six stresses in ten syllables, kind Sir,
Are not iambic, nor pentameter.

I wrote not to assuage my carnal drives,
But just to help a goddess in her plight.
I question how your scansion now arrives
At thinking that the final line ain't right.
Perhaps it seems this hungry poet strives
In haste, pursuing amorous delight.
It's not that I don't crave your naughty bits,
But as I scan it, there's a stress on it's.

 

[AlwaysHungry]

As I steel myself in anticipation of Minervous' next lyrical gauntlet, I added a verse to my poem, because I thought that the transition from genteel to naughty was too abrupt:

Remember me, my love, for I am he
Who loves to roam the landscapes of your verse,
To visit every image, and immerse
Mine ear in your intrepid euphony.

In solemn rows of text, your words invite
My mind into the vistas you portray,
To walk amidst the columns where I may
Encounter you in every line you write.

In mirth, in tears, in struggle, I explore
The lyric nooks and crannies of your heart,
That every revelation may impart
A keener sense of you than heretofore.

Incite me with a roguish turn of phrase,
Like reading naughty nuance in your smile,
The way you bite your lip -- O love, beguile
Me with your fervent verse, as with your gaze!

Another stanza, and your hand entwines
With mine, so soft! So supple! and you dare
To guide me to a fine convergence, where
My questing fingers read between the lines.

A bounty of suggestion in your eyes
And on the page, in those familiar signs,
A call to prayer as the sun declines,
That summons my believer to arise.

O let the liquid words come flowing on,
As thick and fragrant as a summer's eve
That glistens on your lips! Make me believe
This night will swell in sweetness 'til the dawn!

 

[AlwaysHungry]

Here's a new endeavor. I could use some suggestions and feedback:

When we embraced it, things were madly sweet.
We let our drives propel us forward,
ravenous for every hint or twist,
for every drop of lust that issued forth
from our two agitated forms
that ached with love.
The swollen flesh, our wild and bawdy minds
conspired to make a world for us alone,
where doubts and cares were turned away
for such a long, long time.

But when its gaze seemed to assume
a predatory cast, then we froze
like rabbits. (We fucked like rabbits, too.)
How could we know
If it were friend, or foe?
So sleek and cuddly; are the claws retractable?
Could love as feral and divine as ours
ever be made tame?

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Here's a new endeavor. I could use some suggestions and feedback:

When we embraced it, things were madly sweet.
We let our drives propel us forward,
ravenous for every hint or twist,
for every drop of lust that issued forth
from our two agitated forms
that ached with love.
The swollen flesh, our wild and bawdy minds
conspired to make a world for us alone,
where doubts and cares were turned away
for such a long, long time.

But when its gaze seemed to assume
a predatory cast, then we froze
like rabbits. (We fucked like rabbits, too.)
How could we know
If it were friend, or foe?
So sleek and cuddly; are the claws retractable?
Could love as feral and divine as ours
ever be made tame?

I like this, here's my take.....just suggestions.

When we embraced it
things were madly sweet.
We let our desire urge us on,
hungry for every hint or twist,
for every drop of lust
from our mutual agitation
that ached with love.
The swollen flesh,
our wild and bawdy minds
conspired to make a world for us alone,
where doubts and cares were discarded
for such a long, long time.

But when its gaze assumed
a predatory cast we froze like rabbits.
(We fucked like rabbits, too.)
How could we know
if it were friend, or foe?
So sleek and sinuous;
are the claws retractable?
Could love as feral and divine
as ours ever be tamed?

 

[greenmountaineer]

I like this too, AH. Very sensual.

I don't believe the comma is needed in "friend or foe."

I also think GP's suggestions give it some more melody.

Another thought, perhaps as a separate couplet for emphasis:

"Could our love, so feral, be divine
enough to ever be tamed?

 

[AlwaysHungry]

Hmmm... my first inclination is to defend some of the original formulations. I like the ironic contradiction of mentioning "feral and divine" in the same breath, likewise "cuddly" and "the claws", although "sinuous" is a lovely word. I also like the sense of motion in "propel us forward" and "issued forth," although I must concede that "drives" and "forms" sound a bit dry. I wanted to say that doubts and cares were excluded, forbidden entrance, to our little world, whereas "discarded" implies that we carried them with us but then threw them away.

I'll ruminate more on these suggestions, though.

 

[greenmountaineer]

I like parsing poems worthy of the time it takes to parse them.

Some more thoughts:

I'm not shy about 4 letter words, but given all the other allusions to the sexual, "feral," "drops of lust," "and swollen flesh," I wondered if "fuck" was needed.

I also like "Do the claws retract?" With the active voice and the line ending in a masculine foot, it sounds stronger to me than "Are the claws retractable?"

 

[Lyricalli]

Don't know if it will seem too obvious, but I'd like to suggest "We let our hunger thrust us forward." It works with the idea of things being sweet, being ravenous, and sounds good with nearby words.

I'd also drop the 'for' at the beginning of the fourth line, and 'two' from the fifth.

I might have more if I weren't on my phone in the car (not driving!), but those few things just hit me, so I'm posting while they're still in my head.

 

[AlwaysHungry]

I'm not shy about 4 letter words, but given all the other allusions to the sexual, "feral," "drops of lust," "and swollen flesh," I wondered if "fuck" was needed.

I also like "Do the claws retract?" With the active voice and the line ending in a masculine foot, it sounds stronger to me than "Are the claws retractable?"

The "fuck like rabbits" part was impulsive. I had just selected "freeze like rabbits" as a metaphor to complement the one where love is a feral creature, and it occurred to me that there was something else that rabbits are known for, so I thought I would try to further milk that metaphor. I could probably dispense with it.

"Do the claws retract?" is a keeper. I may jettison "drives" and "forms" in favor of nouns with a little more juice. I'll post a revised version after I drink a beer and look at the poem from a higher state of consciousness.

 

[AlwaysHungry]

gleaning ideas from GP, GM, Lyricalli

When we embraced it, things were madly sweet.
We let it chase us forward,
ravenous for every hint or twist,
every drop of lust that issued forth
from agitated, secret spots
that ached with love.
The swollen flesh, our wild and bawdy minds
conspired to make a world for us alone,
where doubts and cares were banished
for such a long, long time.

But when its gaze seemed to assume
a predatory cast,
we froze like rabbits.
How could we know
If it were friend or foe?
So sinuously sleek and cuddly; do the claws retract?
Could love as feral and divine as ours
be ever tamed?

 

[legerdemer]

I also like this one, and like the transformation. Here are a few more suggestions.

When we embraced it, things were madly sweet.
We let it chase us forward, I would delete this - unnecessary and takes away from the flow, to my ears of course
ravenous for every hint or twist,
every drop of lust that issued forth
from agitated, secret spots
that ached with love.
The swollen flesh, our wild and bawdy minds Somehow, bawdy to me brings to mind a pub in Shakesperean times, or Carmina Burana, which seems not quite the right mood - I suggest using 'fevered'
conspired to make a world for us alone,
where doubts and cares were banished
for such a long, long time.

But when its gaze seemed to assume
a predatory cast,
we froze like rabbits. The rabbits don't really serve much of a function for me.
How could we know
If it were friend or foe? if
So sinuously sleek and cuddly; do the claws retract?
Could love as feral and divine as ours divine doesn't seem to belong here, but I'm not sure what to replace it with; I might even suggest deleting it
be ever tamed? I would invert these two

To wit:

When we embraced it, things were madly sweet.
We let it chase us,
ravenous for every hint or twist,
each drop of lust that issued forth
from agitated, secret spots
that ached with love.
The swollen flesh, our wild and fevered minds
conspired to make a world for us alone,
where doubts and cares were banished
for such a long, long time.

But when its gaze seemed to assume
a predatory cast, we froze.
How could we know
if it were friend or foe?
So sinuously sleek and cuddly; do the claws retract?
Could love as feral as ours
ever be tamed?

 

[Lyricalli]

The swollen flesh, our wild and bawdy minds
conspired to make a world for us alone,
where doubts and cares were banished
for such a long, long time.

The way this sentence is structured isn't working for me. I take it that 'the swollen flesh' and 'our wild and bawdy minds' are a compound subject, both conspiring?

Perhaps:

Swollen flesh and our wild, bawdy minds

 

[AlwaysHungry]

Here are a few more suggestions.

The reason I like "chase it forward" is that it conveys a sense of purposeful herding, rather than running willy-nilly. You may have a point about "bawdy" (dealing with sexual matters in a comical way; humorously indecent) -- I have mixed feelings. I don't want to make the poem too light, but on the other hand I think that the implied playfulness sort of works. Likewise "rabbits" -- I am trying to create tension between a sense of joyful fun, and a feeling of danger. (Although I removed it from the poem, I am also sort hoping that the reader thinks of rabbits fucking.) I have in my mind's eye an image of this love being like one of those pet tigers or lions that are raised in captivity and are beautiful and sweet and cuddly, but which are genetically programed to devour their captors if something goes awry. "Feral and divine" is one of those paradoxical formulations that appeal to me, and which I hope encapsulates that tension which I am trying to craft. Maybe I can find a better word than "divine", which perhaps may be distraction due to the religious implications. I was thinking of a different meaning for it, along the lines of "exquisite."

The way this sentence is structured isn't working for me. I take it that 'the swollen flesh' and 'our wild and bawdy minds' are a compound subject, both conspiring?

Perhaps:

Swollen flesh and our wild, bawdy minds

There is a bit of poetic license at work with the grammar there. I liked the iambic pentameter of that particular line.

 

[greenmountaineer]

I would keep "divine" even with the religious connotation. One of the things I rail against is how religious orthodoxy has separated the sexual from the spiritual. For that reason you might add some words to lead the reader more in the direction of what you intended, but for me "feral" and "divine" were the best contrasting images of the poem because I envisioned on the one hand mere coupling and on the other something more uplifting.

I agree with calli that the grammar's a bit clunky, but I got what you meant, so it didn't interfere with my enjoyment of the poem. I tend to be a stickler for proper grammar, but poets break rules for a purpose. The metrical pattern didn't enhance the poem for me, whereas it might for someone else, but neither did it interfere much like the grammar in the line.

 

[AlwaysHungry]

Perhaps if I change it to "our swollen flesh" the parallel construction of the compound subject will be more immediately clear? Also, I hesitate about "hint or twist" -- is that too ambiguous? I have fussed with a few other details to produce this version. I decided to go with Mer's suggestion on the last line; it breaks the pentameter, but I think usefully so, just like the first line of that stanza. Also, it needs a title. Maybe "Feral and divine"?

When we embraced it, things were madly sweet.
We let it chase us forward,
ravenous for every hint or twist,
for every drop of lust that issued forth
from all those agitated, secret spots
that ached with love.
Our swollen flesh, our wild and bawdy minds
conspired to make a world for us alone,
where doubts and cares were banished
for such a long, long time.

But when its gaze seemed to assume
a predatory cast,
we froze like rabbits.
How could we know
If it were friend or foe?
So sinuously sleek and cuddly; do the claws retract?
Could love as feral and divine as ours
ever be tamed?

 

[legerdemer]

Perhaps if I change it to "our swollen flesh" the parallel construction of the compound subject will be more immediately clear? Also, I hesitate about "hint or twist" -- is that too ambiguous? I have fussed with a few other details to produce this version. I decided to go with Mer's suggestion on the last line; it breaks the pentameter, but I think usefully so, just like the first line of that stanza. Also, it needs a title. Maybe "Feral and divine"?

When we embraced it, things were madly sweet.
We let it chase us forward,
ravenous for every hint or twist,
for every drop of lust that issued forth
from all those agitated, secret spots
that ached with love.
Our swollen flesh, our wild and bawdy minds
conspired to make a world for us alone,
where doubts and cares were banished
for such a long, long time.

But when its gaze seemed to assume
a predatory cast,
we froze like rabbits.
How could we know
if it were friend or foe?
So sinuously sleek and cuddly; do the claws retract?
Could love as feral and divine as ours
ever be tamed?

I like the changes you made to it. The 'hint and twist' I think is fine - if there's any doubt, the rest of the poem makes things pretty clear, but I like the coyness of 'hint and twist'. Of course, I might like alternatives as well, but it works well.

I also like the ending.

The longest line still trips me up. Might I suggest you try the following?

So sinuously sleek and cuddly - but do its claws retract?

Finally, a quibble, in red.