pretentious poetry.

fall semester 1992, poetry writing:

midgaard

I remember you

When you were a creature so small

You could lie hidden in the folds of my sleeve.

Wrapped gently around my arm

tensing at the slightest movement,

With a strength that belied your size.

 

I would watch

The light play across your patterned back,

And you would watch me

With your leaden gaze

As you traced your tongue across my flesh

tasting musk and sweat,

looking for a hint of Fear.

But now

You have grown into a creature of mythos.

I imagine you

Curled around the Earth,

Your tail clenched in your mouth,

Smooth and supple, but stronger than Atlas.

I watch you

And I long to hold you

To be engulfed in your embrace.

But I stand behind the glass

and know that now,

You would taste my Fear.

untitled one

he is honey-tongued devil

the sun

 

and she is wanton woman

the moon

 

taking what he wants

eclipsing her

 

a moth circling

white candle flame

 

a lonely satellite

caught in his pull

 

entrancing her

inviting her closer

 

two planets collide

and she obliges

 

he controls the tides

and she wanes

 

but she doesn't care

calling it lunacy

 

and he smiles brightly

untitled two

In this carnival I am a clown,

but you call me your 'painted girl.'

I try to laugh as they throw their baseballs at milkbottles,

(a dollar for a dozen tries -- real cheap)

and I try not to cry when they come

to collect their prize.

 

Everyone falls off the carousel horse once,

landing in the sawdust of center ring --

Dancing horses and acrobats,

and the clowns make the audience scream.

 

But here in this hall of mirrors, reality is twisted,

showing me for what I have become --

The wizened, fortune-telling crone,

The bearded lady,

The dancing girl,

The made-up whore.

Pencil

Her thoughts and My voice,

a Duet on paper,

but She destroys Me in a single stroke

taking away My words

as She clasps Me tightly

in Her hand.

too much pressure and I break,

She groans in frustration.

 

splinters

graphite

and yellow fragments of paint

all remain My legacy.

NETGEEKS IN LOVE

i see your name

and i feel like Christ on LSD --

my vision broken with a million fractals on a Virtual Plane

and my heart stops and starts again.

iknow everything about you

except what you look like in a rainstorm

or how you taste after a cigarette

or anything i haven't caught between your silvered words.

i've known you forever

and talked to you most everyday,

but only once with my mouth.

fingertips pressing keys,

i send you my thoughts

able to take them back before i press <return>;

saving face.

 

we have the ideal relationship

virtual and entirely false

each of us saying what the other needs

to see to read to hear to want.

you are faceless

a green cursor blinking on a field of black,

and when i don't want you i flip the OFF switch.

 

but i can't help feeling that an asterisked *hug*

can't replace the feel of flesh-and-blood arms,

and now i wonder...

will i have you when we meet?

And then, as horrifically as it began, it is mercifully finished. Class over. First academic A-grade at the college level. Egads, they'll grade anything well if you just show up and do the assignments.

Hey, I warned you.

(unless otherwise noted, all thoughts and opinions expressed herein, therein, and whereverin you're looking, are © pixiemartin, 2002.)