poet!liss

Writer's Block says: Write a poem or share one that you like.

Ta-da! Poet at your service! I have an MFA -- in Poetry!

First person to comment with a prompt gets a poem before Midnight!

Others, you may prompt, but I still have ONE MORE FIC PROMPT from my last promptfest (I wrote 15 pieces! -- Develish I have not forgotten you and your Tardis story!)

In the meantime, my favorite poem is Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. 


PS, I am also a songwriter, if you have an idea you think calls out to become a song!

poem: "Dare I Be the Peach?"

[this is an original poem, for my friend roguebitch, who wanted something about women, sex, and aging]

Dare I Be the Peach?

I'm no peach,
unblemished, firm and fair,
fresh flesh prepared to bear an heir--

but yes, I am a peach,
ripe and luscious,
first fruit, juiciest, most delicious.

I'm no green thing, left to ripen on a shelf --
my hour of delectation I determine for myself.

Yes, I am sunlight distilled,
tender rain and tended field,

the flower and the bee,
the well-trimmed tree,
the journey to the stall,
bruises and all.

But no, I don't sit waiting,
flaunting, baiting,
calling all comers
with the headiest of odors.

A flash of gold, a blush of rose:
my qualities are subtler, headier than those --
it requires a deeper discernment to discover
with what pleasures I requite the better sort of lover.

With lips and tongue and teeth I'll suckle in
as trails of oozy sweetness track my skin.  

Fingers delving deep, the sweet flesh drips--
a quiver in the belly, a shake of the hips,

a sigh, an eyelid flutter at such delight.
One last kiss to sticky fingers,
licked clean, tucked out of sight.

Now, as for the pit,
that stony heart, the core
of secret germinations, it holds in store
within, the ideal: the idea

of the tree

still branching out

into sublimity---



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