(Freed by)/a Stroke of/the Pen
(Freed by)/a Stroke of/the Pen
Mine was a despair-amour.
He licked me all over
then traded his tongue for–
at least entangled–mine,
branding it with his want.
A cant of can’t
was all that I could voice,
amazed, at times,
throat lumpen with his gorge,
to make any sound at all
(forgetting that despairamours
like to hear the moans
they’ve forged).
‘Til then I found,
though my mouth could only fit round
bark,
that he’d left my hands free;
and that opened up
all sorts of possibilities–
*******************
draftish poem for Brendan’s prompt on Real Toads to write of a paramour that led us to write. Brendan’s prompt, which is a very interesting read, discusses certain Greek traditions of poetry. Which lids me to the pic, a painting I recently did. I’m not sure it fully fits, but it was my version of a a Roman painting (which was Greek to me).
Tags: despairamour poem, hands-free poem, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com, manicddaily, my not so engaging paramour poem, the trading of the tongues poem
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ManicDDaily 
March 12, 2016 at 11:30 pm
The title, and those last three lines….brilliant, insightful…..and YES! ‘Despairamour’ –clever 🙂
March 13, 2016 at 1:42 am
The cant of can’t – out of the mouth of a despairamour – so clever and so different. Love it.
March 13, 2016 at 4:01 am
This portrays a somewhat darker side of love, which can certainly give rise to the expression of poetry. I’m not sure if this was your intention, or simply my reading of lines such as those in parenthesis, which strike me as containing a painful truth: a paramour might feed off one’s discomfort and sorrow for his/her own pleasure.
March 13, 2016 at 5:39 am
Disparamour! I was wondering how many variations we’d find. The dark animus is this naysaying, critical voice, like the angry daddy and drunk sugardaddy, binding your mouth to a tree. What is it when one can’t speak but the hands are free to write? Perhaps that is the crow on the jug. Did you ever read Marion Woodman’s “Addiction to Perfection”? She writes that many successful women carry this brutal crow on their shoulder that hisses scorn for her every achievement. Your dispararmour cawks that vibe. Well done.
March 13, 2016 at 6:20 am
Ha, thank you Brendan. I haven’t read it, but will look at it. And thanks for the very interesting prompt. I was thinking of bark as the sound but did not mind the dryad aspect! Thanks again.
March 13, 2016 at 2:09 pm
Yes, I mean it really in a rather metaphorical way. Not neccessarily a physical lover as many seem to surmise. K.
March 13, 2016 at 9:03 am
and that opened up
all sorts of possibilities
Great ending K! One was left wondering what a lot more were there to keep the raucous night revolving without control.
Hank
March 13, 2016 at 9:17 am
Really a very intricate piece that reads deceptively smooth and simple. Easy to fall in love with the worst, I’ve always found, and the raspy caw of the crow on the shoulder Brendan mentions that never really alters its tone no matter what bright shiny you give it. Others have called out the combinations I would have quoted so I’ll spare you, but the ending really has a sinister feel to me, as well as the take of a found freedom of sorts. Good to see you writing, k.(And to be able to read it again!)
March 13, 2016 at 11:33 am
The last stanza made me giggle. Clever I enjoyed it!
March 13, 2016 at 2:04 pm
Some relationships start in pain, move towards agony, and leave us gasping for what we hope is possibly air… This is very intense, K. I found myself stopping when I got to “his gorge” and starting over… then reading the whole thing again. I was so glad for the last two lines.
March 13, 2016 at 2:58 pm
Thanks, Magaly. k.
On Sun, Mar 13, 2016 at 3:04 PM, ManicDDaily wrote:
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March 13, 2016 at 5:56 pm
Possibilities, possibilities, possibilities… Loved the ending. 🙂
Greetings from London.
March 13, 2016 at 6:46 pm
the ending was my favorite. yes…a door and a future open to possibilities. go get them!
March 15, 2016 at 7:00 pm
Lovely! Full of delicious double meaning.
March 15, 2016 at 11:29 pm
“despairamours like to hear the moans they’ve forged).” Love that line!
March 16, 2016 at 1:12 pm
Excellent metaphor, K…a very physical read and I enjoy the textures.