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Lunch Box

the red light of sin illuminated her ankles
she, a thousand frisky demons
comfort me
as i yield blood eyes
for switch blade kisses
that push through retinas glass aperture

dark girl with a penchant for hideous pleasures
sex crimes like blatting pistons
her mothers womb twisted with regret
as i live in her hell bender stare
fingering talons that pierce bloody
like diaphanous ribbons

her tits floating angels
and feet sweeten my face
in subduing rituals
of hard knocks
getting her mood up
for blowing cock loops

my nose; her cunt soaked door knob
her rectum; a squeeze hustle
innocent fig strained
mix meistering patterns
of extruded clay;
a pomade of raised bumpy torpedo's
fingers to balls
balls to fingers

i run to her
like bones of air
and she teaches me
in the blood of pandemonium
to make ice in hell

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
perverted sexual content I will not renounce my subjectivity in favor of a sealed objectivity
Editing stage: 

Comments

The images went very explicit, not recommended for children but I enjoyed the romance. Thanks for sharing.

Hommies

Ill try to stay away from writing children's books ;) Thank you very much for taking the time to read my filthy little poem and commenting
Glad you enjoyed it !!

Best Z

author comment

The poem is a trip, a sexual fantasy with some archetypal woman. Very charged erotic verse.
The idea of sin and hell begin and end he poem, not sure how that all fits together. I'm sure you know, have the background myth in as a prompt, but we the readers cannot really know it unless you let us into it in the poem...so the narrative remains a mystery, but the effect of images are nicely charged.

Not sure I get the title...and the only single image that is bit funky for me is the door knob..

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

Perhaps a redundant failing on my part. I forget what others know or don't as I write in the creative impulse of the moment . I do believe in revisions and work hard to advance and polish my writing
The title refers to the female cunt sometimes called a box; as eatable....ie Lunch Box
The hell reference refers tp the realm of the senses and the mind addiction to them
comingled with the notion that she is an out and out sadist ie demonic sexually

Foundational myth, archetypes and psychology are the fulcrum of this poetic attempt and how they correspond to one another

The super ego...principals and lofty vision....heaven.... God
Ego …. the essential self...survival oriented and integrating medium ...purgatory... Human
Id ….The wild untamed hedonistic side, imagination ….. Demon
At least some human drama is played out in this psychological / spiritual drama of these 3

And so the question remains what is the readers responsibility and what is the writers?
When we hear consider the reader, which reader are we considering, and which writer fascinates and absorbs? So I write my writes the best I can and let the chips fall

Some thing I dug up that speaks to me:

Conditions of the narrative
"this one track mind is the route that has been followed by western thought; the route of segregation of the renunciation of manifoldness of phenomena, in favor of dualism and monism, in favor of closed systems and pictures of the world; of the renunciation of subjectivity in favor of a sealed objectivity"

Best Z

author comment

like you are describing what I call "scattershot thought" ; an attempt to cover the target with lead enough to make sure of the kill. LoL Not that I don't enjoy your poems, because I do. Just an observation. Being a dyed in the wool storyteller, I am surprised at myself for my appreciation of your work. ~ Geezer.
.

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Critique or comment today!

Thanks Geezer
I suppose its a different take on what it means to be a writer of poems; more like a surrealist where the narrative element warps and the imagery takes precedents. I like the word play of it.
I prefer leaving the story telling to people like you who are good at it and enjoy that focalization as a writer

Best Z

author comment

Well I think Mark hit the nail on the head with the comment referencing different phases of the moon
We write to our natures
Z

author comment

Thanks for your comments. Yes, in reading your work i think the reader feels, from the strength gush of images and charged words, some effect of what the erotic images do. But without the specific subject, it becomes an abstraction of "meaning", we just get impressions of

The super ego...principals and lofty vision....heaven.... God
Ego …. the essential self...survival oriented and integrating medium ...purgatory... Human
Id ….The wild untamed hedonistic side, imagination …..

All BIG themes, each one a universe of imagination. I think the reader can only get so much, it just becomes a factor or emotion, of feeling the words and images. A different kind of reading than the standard notion of "poetic truth" as a poem by the classics- Yeats, Keats, or Eliot etc Yours is a
reading of sensations.

I can now understand the title, but that is a bit of a stretch for the commoner to get your exact intent....the argot of box used with lunch... but I don't think it has to change.

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

, it becomes an abstraction of "meaning", we just get impressions of

This comment goes to heart of our desperate sensibilities especially when you employed the word JUST

Because when I read most narrative poems I get jaundiced with boredom. I find them repetitive in sentiment., to often platitudeness, ho hum. linguisticly small minded and abstraction delicious, voluptuous, un tethered, contemplative, liberating and more internally satisfying

Best Z

author comment

if we look at Joseph Campbell, and myths, it's only one story- Jung might agree. But there are endless ways of expressing female sexuality, for example, take sculpture - there's ancient and primitive people, or of Greece or Rodin...its the same idea of "woman" but each is from a very unique place.
Each one speaks to us differently.

I do understand your insistence on new forms and narratives, you're a dadaist at heart. That's rare nowadays!.

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

I do understand your insistence on new forms and narratives, you're a dadaist at heart. That's rare nowadays!
I tend not to be conservative at least in some ways I suppose Don't get me wrong I love a good story as much as anyone I cant tell you how many 300 page + books I've read that where a waste of time though
I sent you a poem by a Chinese woman a while back about a recount of family tragedies, the smallness of life and death and we both agreed it was exceptional The narrative content had great feeling. I find this so rare both in what I read and in my own writing as well which is why I like to write about sex
There are very few writers who pull that off and even fewer who can do it with any consistency
Personally I find most narrative themes agonizingly boring. I mean I don't give a fuck who done it.
What I do find interesting is innerness The search for self and the illuminations one may find along the way and not just the telling but the way in which it is told
Poetry with out language that excites concrete or not is just another scrap of brown cardboard, and makes me cry
Thats why Im always pushing others to reach beyond craft
I have issues with workshop mentality in that it feels like a list of do's and don'ts ie dogma;
an attempt to mathamaticalize poetry
Of course it has its place rudimentarily but it is not seeing; it is not waxing flight
Its todays work with yesteryear's worn thin skin
Its virtue is it may give a writer a floor to stand on but to often also, perhaps inadvertently, creates a the limits of to low a ceiling producing little but endless duo troupes.

My professors in art school where protégés of abstract expressionism produced by the generation before them consequently while the art world had moved on to great new glories It was unfortunately lost on them and their students as well

Best Z

author comment
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