"Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn." ~Thomas Gray

"Poetry unites." ~Anon

"Truth is such a rare thing, it is delightful to tell it." ~Emily Dickinson


Written by Sarah Hina
She lives in Athens, Ohio, USA
Her blog: Murmurs

Solo

Rub me like I am the
string and you are the bow
and then maybe I’ll make
a sound, some kind of
holy unbecoming,
instead of this long
flat drone of mouth
sewn wide and
atomic words that won’t
grip the teeth
but implode by my
tongue

If desire is song,
numb is stacked silence,
so I'll pick them apart
with lead-lined gloves
and pluck myself
anew

Originally published on writer's personal blog.
Posted with consent of the writer.

8 Comments:

  1. CLAY said...
    oh! hints of T.S Eliot all about this piece--"pluck myself anew"--multifoliate rose if I've ever seen one! I'm getting carried away..excuse me. This is an excellent poem! Bravo.

    Ever Yours,
    Clayrn Darrow
    M.IV
    Donna said...
    I love the sensual reference to playing an instrument like you would touch your lover:)
    joaquin carvel said...
    this is beautiful - sensual but strong - resolved - quietly powerful.
    K.Lawson Gilbert said...
    Sarah, I love this poem - so skillfully written and arranged. Powerfully packed with similes and metaphors. ;)
    RachelW said...
    So sensual. I love this.
    Sarah Hina said...
    Thank you, everybody, for your warm words. I'm very happy to be included with so many fine poets! Thanks again, Nancy. :)
    Karen said...
    Such a sensual poem! I love these lines:

    and then maybe I'll make
    a sound, some kind of
    holy unbecoming,

    and

    If desire is song,
    numb is stacked silence,
    so I'll pick them apart
    with lead-lined gloves
    and pluck myself
    anew

    The images of the lead-lined gloves and atomic words move this beyond mere sensuality.

    I have to read it again and again.
    Every Photo Tells A Story said...
    I'm late, but, it was my pleasure, Sarah:)Thank you for allowing me to post it.

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