5 x 5 / precision

i get a creepy feeling each time i pass
this house, neat and nice, windows
spotlessly; Insane as if it never rains,

flower beds cut in floods of geometrical
precision, high shine cars, no scars,
scare me, parked neatly in a plot with
the measuring lot


She’s playing the piano in her night gown and
He cuts grass by hand, In-cident opened
for high priority emergency in case he floats
millimeters from his boat, measuring their
days with high tech gear, i


Fear this family

and drag our mattress on the balcony, sleeping-
beauty roses conquer all the space the dirt
don’t needs, wild wisteria holds the rails, trails
of carelessness, against-accuracy excess,

the birds have built their nest above our heads,

we cut the stars apart with un-adapted laughter
and to the rising moon i kiss you with all
dirty-ness i find in the back of my mind, confess:
my repertoire of imprecise seduction unwinds
you into hard-to measure pleasure,

LLLLooooove me sick—


She- closes the piano lid and listens to the night

You press you hand upon my lips, keeping me
silent, fingers tightly gripped around my thigh, i’m
moaning wildly in disordered lust, Freeze–


he’s
pulling down the jalousies, releases his tie,
folds
their life to a 5 x 5 inch square, neat– clean–

while i scream

until the moon

falls on us

.
it is OpenLinkNight again in the most wonderful dVerse place i can think of with a beyond measure lovely Natasha Head tending the bar tonight…gates open 3 pm EST…join us with your poetry

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63 responses to “5 x 5 / precision

  1. Deliciously dirty (grin). Too neat and orderly gives me the willies! Love these lines: “my repertoire of imprecise seduction unwinds
    you into hard-to measure pleasure, love me sick–”

  2. True measuring with high tech gear should be feared. So scary it made you scream…oh wait that was something else..haha

    Another wonderful piece, very intoxicating.

  3. “Accuracy excess,” “geometrical precision,” “measuring their days.” I envision a home with neatly trimmed hedges, shaped like little boxes or other perfect little shapes. Windows spotless, nothing less will do. Shiny clean cars parked on the street, just so, just cleaned to perfection. Him clipping the square edges of lawn, her dutifully fulfilling the duties of artistic wife. A perfectly neat picture of a perfect little world. But inside lives an “imprecise seduction,” a “disordered lust,” a dirty little thing, a mess amidst the order of things, a chaotic thrill that makes you scream against it all, to unleash the passion of what’s truly inside. How beautiful. How beautiful this is.

  4. this would drive me crazy…life measured down to the micro leaves no room to really allow life to happen…life is messy and i dont think i would want it any other way…would love to sleep on the porch though…how cool is that..smiles. lovely piece claudia…

  5. I think that imprecise seduction, in all its scattered and bold spray, is so much more real than the calculated, italicized stuff in your piece. You rock, Claudia. Always stay in touch with the real.

  6. I suspect that those with the neatest exteriors sometimes have the messiest insides (btw, if you like messy houses you’d love mine). I kind of feel sorry for them in a way.

    I love this part:

    “my repertoire of imprecise seduction unwinds
    you into hard-to measure pleasure”

    This is how I feel about very neat art (whether formal verse, music with a strong structure or a tightly controlled painting): There’s got to be something that throws it off, messes it up a little, provides a window OUT, to make it interesting for me.

  7. Some seducing, some transducing, all carefully unmeasured. Down-and-Dirty, so pretty! CLAUDIA! What are you doing to we Americans? Are you that secret weapon which comes here and measures…uhmmm…things?–grin!

    I sure like this one, Babe!

    I’ll be back at 3

  8. I like the images of neat tidy things against messy dirty (sickly) thoughts.

    Great play of words:

    to the rising moon i kiss you with all
    dirty-ness i find in the back of my mind, confess:
    my repertoire of imprecise seduction unwinds
    you into hard-to measure pleasure,

  9. Masterful my friend. The imagery fascinating and captivating. I always enjoy the romanticism neatly couched in your prose poetry. The idea of “dirtyness” used in lovingly express manner is beautiful. The idea you proffer creates a tension in the dichotomy between impure and pure. A stoke (figuratively speaking) of that genius and brillance you possess.

    P.S. I write long comments on your work out of great respect and admiration. I find your work masterful in my eyes, and I’m not blind. -:))

  10. Life is messy and that’s good….can’t stand perfection because it doesn’t exist. You have to live …even if you jump into the mud to do it……

  11. Oh.. I enjoyed the parallels here!! There’s so much appeal and perfection in imperfection…isn’t it!? 🙂
    The end was … umm… orgasmic!! 🙂

    “we cut the stars apart with un-adapted laughter” — what a lovely LOVELY line this is… carefree… oh yea, that’s how I wanna be.. perhaps that’s how I am too/… who knows! Who cares! 🙂

  12. Yes… rage ‘against-accuracy excess’… love how your form disrupts the order…perfect disorder… ‘no scars scare me’ – too right Claudia….

    Great drama….

  13. Gawd, that type of control would drive me crazy. I kinda don’t like absolute chaos but, maybe disorgaised chaos really. Talk about oCD in overdrive.
    Your night on the balcony sounds… devine. 🙂

  14. Very captivating, I sit fascinated in the smooth texture of it, just really enjoyed how the words played. Such perfect poetry! ~ Rose

  15. I think this is my favorite of what I’ve read of yours so far, the undercurrent so tense, moving me forward, so many fabulous lines. this was the hinge: “the birds have built their nest above our heads,” i opened that and I could see it all, right there.

  16. “REAL” lives are messy…you can’t exist within the fabric of reality if you can fold it 5×5. Plastic, manufactured falsehoods…are not so messy, unless they are staged to fool you. I have trouble keeping a clean house, and personally could care less, but I’ve a Mom who lives minutes away who cares very much. I like leaving the chaos behind to play on the veranda…and scream at the stars. This was fantastic! (blush)

  17. Claudia, they sound like MY ideal neighbors! Or maybe even my own family. 🙂

    Love the geometrical flood of flowers. Having been to Germany, I picture those amazing gardens now. I even know about your nation’s contest for the prettiest town each year.

    off to play my guitar in my night gown now, then check if Jim’s finished his non-motorized lawn cutting…

    xo

  18. Scintilating and sexy Claudia – your work apears stronger every week because i have aqquired a morish taste for your style and ideas – the opening 2 stanzas tapped into my nervous system and with hooks firmly lodged dragged me toward the underside of your imaginings – love this SO MUCH!

  19. This reminded me of some neighbors I used to have. They even picked up the pine cones that fell in their yard. Every single day! There couldn’t be one pine cone on the lawn, ever. Little box hedges lined the walkway to the front door. Now that little perfect house is torn down and replaced by a huge monstrosity, measured in much bigger units, but still box hedges along the front walkway. Kind of eerie. Peace, Linda

  20. Oh, girlfriend, this is utter brilliance. Stark contrasts make it so evocative. If you’d written either one or the other it wouldn’t have had the same intensity, even though each stanza merits applause.

  21. i could use some more order, and i aim to get me some:) actually, i am working on doing that. structure is good, but so is sleeping on the balcony. that scene refreshed me so.

  22. Like a child building with wooden blocks, I love to create the neat and tidy, the 5 x 5, the perfectly trimmed. And then giggle with glee when the peak of play time arrives and the walls come tumbling down. I am greedy. I want both.

  23. Another brilliant write Claudia. Order and disorder have been discussed in length but not in the way you so wonderful crafted here.

  24. I also find this precision creepy. I always wonder how people keep everthing so perfect. How do they find the time? Like in your poem there are so many other things I’d rather be doing than taking a sueegee to the windows after every rain. Great poem! Love the ending. 🙂

  25. Pretty much agree with what Mark said, and I like the way you’ve given that slightly disordered feeling with your words, to contrast the overly unreal neat and clean stuff with life, movement and wild emotion. Some people find comfort in that kind of order, but it’s always a bit oppressive for me. I like throwing my clothes on the floor and sleeping on the balcony(if I had one. ) ;_)

  26. I fear this poem

    Don’t know why… my heart aches… Maybe reading about this house – the first couple stanzas – reminded me of the home I grew up in (precise and…) and the screams I used to hide inside.

    I can also read as others did, the sexy-passion and heat…
    I mean no disrespect – and hope it’s ok I shared this with you. perhaps I should stop for tonight… Too much pain inside…

  27. Very nice job in building drama through the contrasts…the sensuality is achieved without common sentimentality. A very tight and well formed piece–nothing we don’t need, everything we do need. I enjoyed it.

  28. Thanks for sharing one of your “peak” moments with us 😉
    (If she screams in my ear, I figure I’ve done my job!)

    Neatness is a disease.

  29. This is why I live on acreage in the woods – the elk and the deer ‘mow’ the lawn and life is super real! LOVE THIS (so you can hear it around the world from the top of our 10,000 foot mountain). By the way, I like you :).

  30. Must agree with above…so dig, ‘love me sick’ (bet the boys would too). You’ve fashioned such a fine juxtaposition with this one without being trite or preachy… a fabulous write, as always ~

  31. spotlessly; Insane as if it never rains…
    Loved it 🙂

    Its better to b imperfect than eternally perfect. Imperfections have a scope of improvement !!

    Nice read !!!

  32. Another wonderful read. Perfect places make me nervous as well. It’s so nice to visit a home that is lived in. I love the split between these two worlds, and I appreciate that you are able to write in an evocative way that is not over the top.

  33. Wow, Claudia– I think you’ve been having quite a bit of fun lately– a wild freedom in this poem and intensely beautiful imagery– like a flooding river with flowers appearing on the surface. xxj

  34. “scream until the moon falls on us” what a line. And how you perfectly and poetically illustrated all that is messy, dirty, free and wonderful in life. Seeking perfection misses life lived perfectly. Loved this write!

  35. Love the interplay of the two stories, world views..this line especially does it for me ‘we cut the stars apart with un-adapted laughter’..lovely poem..as a messy person I feel at home in it..

  36. Love the way your choice of vocabulary pulls the reader through this poem. Your writing so well reflects the contrast of the “perfect” couple next door with the people living life with wild abandon and beauty.

  37. Ahhhh….your contrast between this staid, sterile life and the life on the roof!

    Yes, this family would scare me, too.

    Love the contrast…one os immobile, frozen in what?

    The other outrageously REAL, sensual with Life, and chaos breaks the back of sterility.

    This poem says so much, Claudia…..it goes to the ground of reality.

    Lady Nyo

  38. There’s so much to this poem, but one line really sticks out to me, “She- closes the piano lid and listens to the night.” Wonderful work, Claudia.

  39. “we cut the stars apart”

    “until the moon

    falls on us”

    {{sigh}} you write images that are beyond beautiful, Claudia! and who but you could make a poem about being too tidy into such a sizzling hot, passionate tale. i love this! ♥

  40. She’s playing the piano in her night gown > hehe wonderful. Missing you on teh board but I know what you’ve got on… I was there! Don’t forget me sister…

    Love your way

    Luke