Easing into it

March 11, 2010 · 5 comments

I’ve been pretty vague about the illicit in my life. Vague adds a certain amount of mystery and drama in prose that is not necessarily there in reality. I was ready to be un-vague in this post, but I’ve forgotten how to structure a blog post. Instead, I’m posting a poem–because that is not vague at all.

I’ll be back. What do you think? Could I pass off as a poet?

Sir

I am not a poet

I do not camouflage

Clichés; I do not mould

Abstractions from the remnants

Of the Parthenon’s empty facade

I am not vague like you.

Your lines are art

Open for interpretation

They mean something to everyone.

I am not a whore like you.  

My crushes are not poetry

They do not apply to all.

And my couplets, Sir

will never rhyme

For your comfort

I am not a coward like you.

My words are not

Sealed in a frosted bottle

I do not allude or imply;

I am not a veiled woman.

And I’m unlike the simile you think I am

My lips are not scars to trace

My body is not a map

And your love is not my final destination

Your analogy of me is wrong—

You should edit it.

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{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }

Dark Cloud Nine March 11, 2010 at 11:29 pm

Ah those men are dangerous… they let us fall in love with our own dreams… often because they have less imagination than what we thought. Beware.

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Sarah March 15, 2010 at 8:53 pm

Profoundly stated. I was just going to say I once stayed friends with an ex-boyfriend long enough to hear him use the exact like he used on me on someone else. It’s crushing: knowing you’re not special (to him).

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Peter March 12, 2010 at 3:54 pm

Very interesting.

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Cheryl March 19, 2010 at 2:36 am

People who have never dated are so lucky.

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Alexia March 21, 2010 at 1:24 pm

Nail. Head. Brilliant. You got it (yeah, baby, you got it). Seriously, I LOVE IT.

Isn’t it funny that I just wrote a poem where I use the line: ‘My body is a map’?

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