April 4, 2011 by Sez
The NaPoWriMo prompt today was to write a pwoemrd: i.e. a one word poem. Can’t really make that into a sestina.
So I’ve gone with a prompt off another, randomly found poetry website called Big Tent. I’ll be going back there.
They suggested writing about getting naked somewhere other than the bedroom or bathroom.
In other news, I got to be a judge at the Best Of Shef poetry slam last night. That was fun. I mention this only because I chose words that leapt out at me from the poems of the five that went through to the second round. And then added glorious because I was looking at an Eddie Izzard video case (yes, VHS. Kickin’ it old school.)
To be honest, I’m not positive ‘Juicy’ was in there. There was just a general juicy aura to one of the poems.
Anyway, those words plus the naked theme put an image in my head of a woman, off her face on drugs and naked in a field, eating fruit with the juice running down her chin. A kind of modern Adam and Eve story seems to have sprung from that.
Sorry, far too much preamble.
Oh, I wrote a pwoemrd as well. It’s political and that. It’s at the bottom.
But years ago they used to go to raves
Together, when their love was fresh and juicy.
They’d drop some acid, go completely mental.
Once, she had run across a field, stripped bare.
And laughing, bitten into stolen fruit
A dreadlocked Eve, unfallen, glorious.
And, long ago, the sex was glorious.
They’d been adventurous back then, and brave,
Sampling each other’s bodies like sweet fruit
Writhing, entwined like serpents, warm and juicy,
She’d dripped like honey, and he was her bear.
A coupling both physical and mental –
Back then they’d had this really freaky mental
Link, where they would sit in glorious,
Silent communion, minds and hearts laid bare
To one another. Maybe at the raves
The acid made their psyches soft and juicy
Which left them free to taste forbidden fruit
In one another’s minds. But bitter fruit
Began to grow: slowly, his mental
State turned dark. And then what had been sweet and juicy
Eccentric, hedonistic, glorious,
Is scary now. He shouts at her and raves
About the secrets which he could lay bare.
If people would just listen. She can’t bear
His touch these days. She lives on grains and fruit
And spring water, detoxing from the raves
And wonders when he got so fucking mental
And when there stopped being something glorious
Between them. When did life stop being juicy?
But it was glorious back then, and juicy,
Going to raves to taste forbidden fruit
Now, it’s so hard to bear. She’s going mental.