#49 2018 Blog “Woman, A Succulent Specie”

“Woman, A Succulent Specie”

NOTE: my new recent love, poeticising, grouping artfully, succulent varieties:

many times a woman falls in love then… no more, then… again and again and again… tears again and again and again… like a succulent plant, she’s a rare ambrosian; a fleshy tasty delicious flavoursome yummy grapes!

i wish to banish that scintillating parfum that puts me to a standstill… a nagging shadow that haunts my valley, a private valley that once upon a time video-ed our romance…i search i shout for a tsunami to get rid of ‘love’; its pulpits its attitudes its sentiments;   succinctly erased from the horizon; and welcome a rising dawn that would once again exalt colours of rainbow… enjoy the wrestles of windstorms, striking thunderstorms floodgates of lava.

ahhhhhhhhh… my blood surging like tsunami reigning in laughters!!! __would i love once more, would i compare, would there be rival meanings… gads, i would let these wrestling matches melt themselves to nowhere and flower new buds… dancing moi endless in the meadows of nonlocation; a flying saucer without a site; a coruscating accident i’d call; triggering a vexatious punctum, simmering into bliss.

i, the woman, could be alone but never lonely, i am a detached leaf… i am free to go north, south, east, and west, carried by the wind, i shall treasure every moment of my ‘now and here’… and once in awhile lay on my tummy, under the expanses of blue sky kissed by the cold breeze and tickled by the soft wind __i shall close my eyes; shall refresh my ‘then and there!’ __ life is simply awesome… i shall whisper, “honey, my honey… it’s marvellous…  ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh… that lovely night”!

we foxtrot in graceful dips 

never minding the many stares

the music seek not to stop

our lips… seal, glue

clock stops… as we embrace!

you look at me

ahhh… as if i’d melt 

moulding me like candy balls

playful tongue faddy lips… play sip roll.

i am deliciously consumed… a WOMAN!

as a poet, times when i feel terribly in naughty-want… while it could be engrossing, possessing to read love poetries, yet if it’s explicitly  languaged, it becomes a distaste nuisance, pornographic in lustful tone… but pornographic poetry could be utterly interesting if intricately sculpted in the metaphysical form… so, let me interestingly ink my erotic  “the goddam colgate”… in my dim lighted bathroom, the music sounds Rod Stewart’s …  “I SAW YOU LAST NIGHT”

the melodious wind chimes

a hold, my fingers numb

the press the squeeze

a wish for its mossy abundance

ahhhhhhhhh… i remember.

my hands tremble

my hands like a tickling spoon on a saucer

artfully smothering 

then…

ahhhhhhhhh… i remember.

a snakelike mint flavour squirts

the goddam toothpaste 

COLGATE’s last spurts

a sighing heat mist

ahhhhhhhhh… i remember… 

 

_ade caparas manilah

tuesday 5:26pm 21 august 2018

sydney nsw australia

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