This one is under "music" because it was written for a specific project. An operatic soprano asked me to write something that she could sing on electronic music.
I think of you
The way you are
(Maybe not)
But I am quick and eager
Like a red fox
And I want to try,
I want to try you.
Open the velvet box
Pleasant aggression
Cotton-shaped love
Fuchsia-feel
Sweet and sticky…
Teeth and breath
Glide, collide
While I tell you a story
Of contrasted colors:
Sex is oxymoron
A touch of another
In me
The trace of me
Over him…
Be him!
Beginning, concrete
In my thoughts,
An abstract painting
During...
Completed dream
Of suspended truth
When I hold my breath
Then let go
I
Feel the answer
To my question while
He questions
His doubt
Certainly
I
Feel the shape
Of my body
Contours of my skin
Outside and within.
Love is
Oxymoron
Sex is a dove
That meets a crow
(I can be both, can you?)
Harmonious clash
Within
(And out)
I think of you
And invite you
Hexed object
You are my subject
Sexed in and out.
Come open the box
Come.
Want to review or comment on this poem?
Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Reviews of "My Hexed Object"
Reviewed by Miriam Dufer (Reader)
Reviewed on May 5, 2008
I love the opening...I think of you The way you are (Maybe not)
Our memories are never without fallacy (no pun intended) and how we choose to remember shapes the memory. I love this opening!
Reviewed by ~ Holly Harbridge (Reader)
Reviewed on April 22, 2008
I'm impressed! My goodness, such passion! Well done, blessings, Holly
I like the fascinating flow of thoughts in this, Axilea. I want to stop and ponder much of it, but it has its own compulsion to drive along, as Michelle has said - sex-like.
Sex is oxymoron
A touch of another
In me
... like this oxymoron of sex - are we giving or receiving? In search of fulfillment of self or other? Discovering self or other? Certainly the drive is compelling and overpowering, and that can only come from deep within. TY Kate xx
Great build-up, the form really adds to that, especially the "I's" being on their own. This feels like the quick, heated movements of sex, and it works well.
This is written a bit like multiplying by 9's... the last mirrors the first, and the middle reflects itself... A chiasma of ideas coming together to un-contradict itself.
The things that I find amazing about it: "Sex is oxymoron", then later, "Sex is a dove". And "...Cotton-shaped love", then later, "Love is oxymoron". Seemingly contradictory, and yet... oxymoron becomes oxymoron (stay with me here...)
I also love the movement in the middle with the suspended "I"'s.
And your readers become one with the poem, desiring, as invited, to step inside the poem, and read her. --Charlie
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Our memories are never without fallacy (no pun intended) and how we choose to remember shapes the memory. I love this opening!
Sex is oxymoron
A touch of another
In me
... like this oxymoron of sex - are we giving or receiving? In search of fulfillment of self or other? Discovering self or other? Certainly the drive is compelling and overpowering, and that can only come from deep within. TY Kate xx
Bravo!
Terry
Love it.
Amira
Loved it!
Love and Peace~
Kimmy~
Be always safe,
Karen
ET
The things that I find amazing about it: "Sex is oxymoron", then later, "Sex is a dove". And "...Cotton-shaped love", then later, "Love is oxymoron". Seemingly contradictory, and yet... oxymoron becomes oxymoron (stay with me here...)
I also love the movement in the middle with the suspended "I"'s.
And your readers become one with the poem, desiring, as invited, to step inside the poem, and read her. --Charlie
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D