Seduction without Reduction

So, you think you want a ‘stocking and suspenders’ kind of girl?

I’ll give you a twirl and rock your world,

Lick my lips slowly – no not for that,

I’m warming up for intellectual combat –

You better be packing some long, hot words –

In this case size really does matter,

I need to know that you’ve got the patter

Those pastiches of lust are just absurd –

Ugly bits of nylon , compared to the word –

Words are more seductive,

Words are less reductive

Rolling smoothly off the tongue,

A delight to be heard.

 

Ideas can wriggle behind feathers and fans,

Titillating – little by little -things to expand

Your mind,

A burlesque of a different kind,

A burlesque where you might just find

Yourself craving more of the mysteries,

The little-known histories

Coyly revealed from behind the feather –

You’ll feel ill at ease,

Confused by the tease,

At the end of your tether…

At a loss for why it’s more engrossing,

Than those cheap bits of clothing

But you’ll never

Forget this psychological striptease.

All words and images are the original work of the writer and may not be reproduced without their permission.

bad baboushka

Words Like Strings

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His fingers play words like strings

And when his scribing sings

It’s like a siren on the rocks,

And every comma shocks

Me to the core –

The perfection inspires awe,

The constructions are a pure

Testament to his genius

He is the nemesis of Aesclepius

The feelings inflicted can never heal,

And each syllable is so real –

Like black magic cast on a page –

A page, a sage, a gauge,

Letters to shape an age,

Subtlety that needs no cage

Already executing perfect restraint

In a divine refrain

That leaves echoes of sensations on your soul –

Fragments that plant themselves and grow,

Images that fall and tickle your existence like snow –

Belief is frozen

Suspended and broken,

Taken somewhere else

As you crave shelf after shelf –

The untapped mine

Of a golden mind –

Sublime, divine, eternal prime.

‘Does it make it ghastly to read?’ he asked:

How could I even word the unsurpassed

Class

Of what I had read?

The pinnacle of lyrical pleasure inside my head?

And he plays words like strings with his fingers,

And the echo of fascination lingers and lingers.

All words and images (c) of original artist and may not be reproduced without permission 2015.