a hundred charcoaled letters later

thinking of your notes,
i dream of you,

sitting next to me
with ink smeared lips,
hands caressing your pen
as if it were my breasts

i think of words, ripe,
falling from your tongue –
plucked and squished
to juice by summer fairies

and i want to preserve their taste
for scentless days

Don’t talk
or think or even breathe
you smile  – just
close your eyes, drink, trace
their patterns while they fall
to rest,

melt with the graphite of your pencil
and let the words
invading you,

splitting your bowels
with a crimson spear,
cracking you open ’til

you can’t be sure if you –
just dive, die, dance or drown

in a HundredCharcoaledFountains,
spilling your life like ink
across the barriers you have built

.

.
Anton Gourman wrote a wonderful poem, based on this one and I can highly recommend the read – you can find it here
.

and…it’s one shot wednesday again…gates open at 5pm EST ..let’s  flood the place with poetry…hope to see you there..

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50 responses to “a hundred charcoaled letters later

  1. Wow that’s delicious. All my favorite things brought together in one sensual confection.
    “i think of words, ripe,
    falling from your tongue –
    plucked and squished
    to juice by summer fairies”
    Yum!

  2. “melt with the graphite of your pencil”

    and this:

    “in a HundredCharcoaledFountains,
    spilling your life like ink
    across the barriers you have built”

    Such good writing, Claudia. This one, I feel.

  3. Hello! Claudia…
    Sometimes I play the words that comes to my mind after reading Brian’s poem(s)…I think that I will play that game with you, today after reading your poem.
    Beautiful words, flow, intimate, thoughts, and Hundred Char coaled Fountains, metaphor,(symbolic)and thanks for sharing!
    DeeDee ;-D

  4. Pingback: No summer lies « Forpuck – by AG

  5. spilling life like ink …
    powerfully evokes an image or multiple images

    thanks Claudia for everything you have done this week for One Stop ( and every week)

  6. Always hard in love to tell if you are dancing, dieing, diving or drowning–sometimes you seem to do them all at once. Nice one, claudia.

  7. This is a wonderful description of the power of poetry to permeate. I love these lines:

    “i think of words, ripe,
    falling from your tongue –
    plucked and squished
    to juice by summer fairies”

    Wow, they actually make my mouth water.

  8. Such passionate and vivid longing…unusual, but potent imagery as well: hands cupping the pencil as if it were my breasts…such things really strike the senses, and the mind. Always whirling through the intensity of life, Claudia…

  9. you made simple things, tactile things, tools for use to a particular end, seem sexy and sexual and sensuous. wonderful imagery…

  10. so this is another work of perfection. your word choice pulled me in and kept me hanging on every syllable. beautiful.

  11. Sexy, sensuous, sensual, and seductive. Your words swirl your readers into other worlds allowing us a view we wouldn’t have otherwise seen. This is my definition of a true artist which you are. Especially liked
    “ripe,
    falling from your tongue –
    plucked and squished
    to juice by summer fairies”

  12. What fun to read your collaborative efforts one after the other! Here’s my favorite line in your poem:

    “i think of words, ripe,
    falling from your tongue –
    plucked and squished
    to juice by summer fairies”

    just magical.

  13. Claudia, I ‘drowned’ in your poetry here. What a beautiful and peaceful way to go. And then–I listened to your voice, and drowned all over again. this time–cannot be brought back to life as I have known.

    Blessings for you and your sweet voice, sounding like I remember (as a child) my family (adults) speaking in their “Best Englander” tongue. I LOVED IT!

  14. excellent…really reminded me of another great poet who’s work i follow….her name is spitterg LOL… seriously great poem clauida..cheers pete

  15. I adore the way the memory of another’s habits and behaviors… pencil etched notes … flows into a daydream piece of writing by another. Truly lovely, Claudia.

  16. I’m with Gay on this one:

    “ripe,
    falling from your tongue –
    plucked and squished
    to juice by summer fairies”

    That is just amazing imagery, Claudia. I love sensual poems, and you are a master of them.

  17. “i think of words, ripe,
    falling from your tongue –
    plucked and squished
    to juice by summer fairies”

    Oh how I love this! Beautifully penned Claudia, sensual in the true sense of the word.

  18. I could taste this piece on the tip of my tongue like salt.
    spilling your life like ink, I must concur was my favorite line. Powerfully passionate write Claudia, well done!

  19. oh…your reading is so fab for this…absolutely love the last stanza, brilliant ~

    (as an aside, tis interesting as many poets repeat themes or words during periods of their writing…it is a good thing, and I enjoy that you’ve also got a phase of imagery that seems to reappear, wonderful)

  20. You convey such a beautiful layer of passion and sultriness in this piece. “melt with the graphite of your pencil”…could I die in that line…yes! ~ Rose