Risen (Day 49 of 100 -- Poetry challenge)

in #poetry6 years ago

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                My thighs are wet of blood    and    orgasm.

Look to the flora and the bee,
to the beast that does not snivel
a repressed grunt, hidden or, head down,
or    bent of knee.

Bare grotto revelations fall empty
and impotent in the wake of their great
clock that is always ticking a somber
   tock.

Seven flickering candles
light a dim space
within a lost place.

                I rise fiercely,

moist and renewed, jeweled of dew
and amber droplets of honeyed exhalations,
willfully wanton and a sharp-forked-tongue
  to taste the bitter within the sweet.

My cunt is crowning and so cometh
the bloodied babe forged
of unbound fires.

Not a tomb
                but a Womb.

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  • All pieces are newly crafted and posted shortly after in adherence to the rules of the challenge. All the photos are mine unless otherwise stated.

  • Entry for Day 49 of 100 Days of Poetry Challenge by @d-pend.

  • Join the Steemit School here: https://discord.gg/yZvYjfM organized by @dobartim on Discord.

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I feel like this poem is a mix between Upon Entry to my Sphere (with the Scarlet Child and the alchemical union aspects), Never-Again, for the rise, and return to power, especially of femininity, but also Blood out, because while you paint yourself as the one in control here, there are still aspects of sacrifice here.

I notice that here, like in the prior day's poem, Free Thyself, you're using additional spacing in-line. A weird sensation that is. A way to make sure the words stand on their own? As if one used italics, but without?
So should the second stanza's last two lines actually be read as:

a repressed grunt, hidden or, head down,
or
bent of knee.

Which does make me think some pieces here, such as having a single rhyming place, or the "honeyed exhalation" and "jeweled of dew," that this piece was written to be a spoken word piece, and those spaces let us know where we should half-pause in our reading?

moist and renewed, jeweled of dew
and amber droplets of honeyed exhalations,
willfully wanton and a sharp-forked-tongue
to taste the bitter within the sweet.

I really do like this stanza, I want to say.
Though it's interesting how you position yourself as powerful just as you then describe yourself as a serpent, perhaps the serpent. Temptress? The holder of knowledge? One who hedonistically lives life?

And one last comment to ponder on, how different would the piece read, if the last two lines were reversed? "Not a womb, but a tomb."

Wow, your use of tone is absolutely captivating. Your use of imagery works magic in that not only is it creating a mental landscape but also generating deeply seated emotions which crawl across the skin and pour from the heart. Fantastic, thank you for sharing!

Thank you, brother. <3

I love your poetic comments.

Don't want to shower for a week now, Would want to wash this poem away.

thats hott

haha, thanks Bruh. :P

Holy moly!