Today's poet

[N-dubya]

oh by the way i,m watching Sylvia on t'internet whilst keeping up with the thread anyone seen it.

[Nathaniel Lee]

No.Have you seen it before ?. Is it any good ?.How can i watch it on the internet as i certainly would be interested.

[freckle]

I f that is the case Tri i'll clear up the confusion the Armitage poem was intended for boy wonder for no other reason than is avatar is the Boy Wonder himself just. it was just seeing the avatar made me think of the poem so I posted it no malice intended to anyone, organisation etc..

All's well that end's well lads!...............group hug

anyhoo I'm sure boy wonder will make some little quip about this later to make us chuckle !

[freckle]

oh by the way i,m watching Sylvia on t'internet whilst keeping up with the thread anyone seen it.

Oooo i like a bit of slyvia...her readings on you tube are quite eerie especially the "daddy" one....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6hHjctqSBwM

[freckle]

The Cinnamon Peeler
Micahel Ondanteje

If I were a cinnamon peeler
I would ride your bed
and leave the yellow bark dust
on your pillow.

Your breasts and shoulders would reek
you could never walk through markets
without the profession of my fingers
floating over you. The blind would
stumble certain of whom they approached
though you might bathe
under rain gutters, monsoon.

Here on the upper thigh
at this smooth pasture
neighbor to your hair
or the crease
that cuts your back. This ankle.
You will be known among strangers
as the cinnamon peeler's wife.

I could hardly glance at you
before marriage
never touch you
-- your keen nosed mother, your rough brothers.
I buried my hands
in saffron, disguised them
over smoking tar,
helped the honey gatherers...

When we swam once
I touched you in water
and our bodies remained free,
you could hold me and be blind of smell.
You climbed the bank and said

this is how you touch other women
the grass cutter's wife, the lime burner's daughter.
And you searched your arms
for the missing perfume

and knew

what good is it
to be the lime burner's daughter
left with no trace
as if not spoken to in the act of love
as if wounded without the pleasure of a scar.

You touched
your belly to my hands
in the dry air and said
I am the cinnamon
Peeler's wife. Smell me.

</B>

[Nathaniel Lee]

The Devils Harem.

I'm here to swallow your divinity,
The beast from the pit devouring your angel soul,
Your gods plaything bastard bitch,
But i'm the devil incarnate the f****r who will take it all.

You celestial moths flying round his holy light,
I'll take you one by one destroy you with my vitriol,
Angels you poor sad f***s i've had you all,
Your down here with me now my playthings one and all.

By Matt Harmston

[freckle]

The Devils Harem.

I'm here to swallow your divinity,
The beast from the pit devouring your angel soul,
Your gods plaything bastard bitch,
But i'm the devil incarnate the f****r who will take it all.

You celestial moths flying round his holy light,
I'll take you one by one destroy you with my vitriol,
Angels you poor sad f***s i've had you all,
Your down here with me now my playthings one and all.

By Matt Harmston

Powerful stuff as ever tri....your energy is amazing !

[Old Whippet]

The Cinnamon Peeler
Micahel Ondanteje

If I were a cinnamon peeler
I would ride your bed
and leave the yellow bark dust
on your pillow.

Your breasts and shoulders would reek
you could never walk through markets
without the profession of my fingers
floating over you. The blind would
stumble certain of whom they approached
though you might bathe
under rain gutters, monsoon.

Here on the upper thigh
at this smooth pasture
neighbor to your hair
or the crease
that cuts your back. This ankle.
You will be known among strangers
as the cinnamon peeler's wife.

I could hardly glance at you
before marriage
never touch you
-- your keen nosed mother, your rough brothers.
I buried my hands
in saffron, disguised them
over smoking tar,
helped the honey gatherers...

When we swam once
I touched you in water
and our bodies remained free,
you could hold me and be blind of smell.
You climbed the bank and said

this is how you touch other women
the grass cutter's wife, the lime burner's daughter.
And you searched your arms
for the missing perfume

and knew

what good is it
to be the lime burner's daughter
left with no trace
as if not spoken to in the act of love
as if wounded without the pleasure of a scar.

You touched
your belly to my hands
in the dry air and said
I am the cinnamon
Peeler's wife. Smell me.

</B>

Some poems amaze me. This is one of them. Thanks.

[freckle]

Doh ! heres the link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vU5MmSdQppQ

finally got a chanceto listen to this neil, great stuff...the first poem is so moving and the second quite a hoot! particularly like the line.....

"don't be taken in by the dolphins, they are the pick pockets of the ocean!"

was it you who said you had heard armitage's voice on a train or something somewhere? it is very distinctive isn't it...

I would love to go to onde of these live poetry readings...

thanks again

[N-dubya]

Something i've been working on is a poem about I how assume different identities to fit into different social occasions and with different social groups. If I am honest this at the moment feels another voice is speaking and there is a lack of my own truth and inegrity.


Masks


Packed beneath the flesh and wrinkles are,
passing glances, smiles and frowns.
Some are reserved for special occasions
others are daily for posh folk and clowns

There much more than facial expressions,
a curl of the lip or raise of the brow.
Each one worn has hidden agendas
their roots, bound tightly to organs and bones