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Sunday, August 3, 2008

Making Love... A Confessional Poem


Confession:

I've made Love

Far more times

Than I've ever had

Sex. My

Imagination is

A whore… yes… but my body

Has been

A temple

Composed of

Fear and Poetry and

Hope for romance. The penis




Is a jerk meat

With piss-

Poor judgment.

It works,

It rises, it throbs when

We breathe.



It pretends to be

A magician...

No rabbits, only

The fluid of

Lust cums

From its hat.



Me? I've always dreamed

Bigger

Wider

Better

Than that, and so…

I've made love

More times than

I've ever had

Sex. Yet,



My head,

My home has been

A promiscuous dome

Where Illicit

What Ifs play

Twenty-four-sevenly.



This is what we

Men do. We thrust

Our erections into

Illusions and

When we arrive

We come...

Into the reality

That we are most alone

Inside this bed

In our heads.


But sex with no emotion

Was too easy, too dangerous,


So instead

I've made love to faces with names,

To orifices with brains

And souls who fell

Shamelessly to their

Knees.



And I've fallen, too

Before false gods

And goddesses, who

Made me kneel

At the alter of

Some thing

That felt

Soft and Hard…and Real, like


Love.







One.



By L.M. Ross

10 comments:

D-Place said...

I like that.

Chari said...

Lol, nice.

Mizrepresent said...

Another brilliant piece! You are doing it over here man!

Anonymous said...

wow, that poem made me think about the time when....oh...sorry....I am just thinking K...neva mind me.


lol

joaquin carvel said...

this is great - bittersweet and naked and dead-on. thank you.

BronzeBuckaroo said...

You keep hitting home runs with your words!

Me, I am still a virgin. I believe I may be the last one sometimes. I long to "worship at the alter of beauty." But, even as my imaginations are filled with flesh pressing flesh, I know an empty experience isn't me. S0, I have bridled the head in my appendage from leading me into a regretful situation. In the end, I just know what I want, what I am looking for. This knowledge I cannot run away from regardless of anything.

Babz Rawls Ivy said...

It is rare to have a man bare his soul (my interpretation) this way. It makes me happy knowing that a man is thinking about love.

jade said...

wow.

your poetry leaves me speechless. which is quite sad considering that i call myself a writer.

Sweetamazon:) said...

And I've fallen, too

Before false gods

And goddesses, who

Made me kneel

At the alter of

Some thing

That felt

Soft and Hard…and Real, like


Love.

wow you r amazing

QH said...

This is by far my favorite piece you've written. I'm blushing right now.-QH