Eve in disguise 2

[Doreen Peri]

i am Eve in disguise,
the prodigal daughter
never having arrived
home, lilith's twin, i roam
the planet's surface
enjoying one lover
then the next

i wear a live serpent
wrapped around my neck.
his two-pronged tongue
whispers hell phrases.
lust rants, love rages
in my left ear, he is
tempting me, i hear him
sputter and spit,
hiss and mock my desire ....
my heart, my legs, my
torso are on fire,

my mind is flattened,
tattered, tortured with
taunt, imprisoned by
the snake whisperer's
want, i can't escape
an unconscious doom,
my tomb is surely here
but this ain't love the way
love should be,
full moon burnin'
a hole in me

i can't break clear
and damn i ain't wise.
i can barely breathe.
i'm Eve in disguise.

[saw]

is your avatar Eve ?.....seems to fit the poem somehow.....my eyes were drawn to it as I read the words...in any case, an interesting
tale of a woman and the conflict between her temptations that seem to be as powerful as the feelings of love might be.....poor Eve....the poster girl for giving in to desire, which we all do, from time to time....

[Lightning Rod]

Eve's disguise was nakedness
(little known fact: she tricked Satan into giving her that apple)
nice one doreen

[Doreen Peri]

Saw.... My avatar is a cartoon I created of myself yesterday at http://mywebface.com . It looks just like me, doesn't it? So, since I am Eve in disguise, yes, I guess it IS Eve since it's me. ... All women are Eve. We are all good girls struggling with desires. Why? Because if a woman sleeps with a lot of men like she wants to, she's considered a whore and a slut. But if a man sleeps with a lot of women like he wants to, he's considered admired for his charm, allure and attractiveness. Not quite fair, is it?

Lightning Rod .... I was naked when I wrote it. I'm sure your fact is accurate. Eve was cunning and smart. All Eves are.

.....

Thanks for reading and commenting, you two! Appreciated.

.......

BTW, I named this "Eve in disguise 2" because I wrote another poem called "Eve in disguise" a few years so this is the second in a series. It becomes a series when there is more than 1.

[Perdida]

really dig this Doreen.... I was looking for the first Eve you wrote... but have just realised it was a few years ago. Will have to do a search.

in reply to yur reply lol ....

if a woman sleeps with a lot of men like she wants to, she's considered a whore and a slut. But if a man sleeps with a lot of women like he wants to, he's considered admired for his charm, allure and attractiveness. Not quite fair, is it?

so true, we're damned if we do and we're damned if we don't!

[Doreen Peri]

Maree... thanks very much!
Here's the first one... I don't think I posted it here at the Studio. I wrote in 2000, before there was a Studio Eight.

It's way too long and way too ... i donno... ridiculously self-serving. Or something like that. I was trapped in the internet.

..........

-- eve in disguise --


maybe i'm just a lost and rambling vagabond
caught on the tail of a comet wrapped 'round the sky
all i know is i can't do right no matter how hard i try -
because you diaper a kid, wipe his nose, take him to
guitar lessons, boy scouts, the beach,
clean off skinned knees and fourth grade bruised egos
and a few years later, he stands six-feet tall
looking down at your jaw-dropped face
saying fuck you, you're wrong, and
backing it up with e-mail.

so why do people wonder when i shout the truth that
i'm tossed and i'm turmoiled and lost in a sea of wind
while the cold blast of winter is pulling me in -
and perhaps i'm just being tested by
pieces of fate in a terrorized world --
hordes of empty people sitting inside themselves,
rising from bed in the morning, getting kids dressed,
serving breakfast, showering, dressing, driving, working,
driving back to sterile houses built on leveled land,
with hot tubs and grand bathtubs with jets that nobody uses,
doing laundry, cooking dinner, helping kids memorize
spelling words because today, there's no such thing as phonics -
all for a blank stare of a stone statue spouse,
vacant eyes, nothing in common, tv and remotes,
crawling in bed to the sound of snoring and no touch,
setting alarms, and then again and again and again
repeated for days and weeks and years and
how do they escape? it's a perfect life, after all.

and there's hundreds of thousands of them,
maybe millions of millions out of the six billion on the
planet and they're surfing the net, zapping photos,
hanging out in chat rooms, posting see-through messages
on bulletin boards, trying to read through the lines,
who's doing who, what did she mean by that,
what did he mean by that, doing searches,
tracking responses, tap tap tap tap, trying to fill up
with something missing because something's missing, alright,
there ain't no doubt about that and maybe they find
what they're missing but he or she is hundreds or thousands
of miles away in his or her own little prison of a world
and circumstance dictates, y'know what i mean?

and so they tap tap tap tap.
well, i heard he was going to visit her
i heard she's married, i heard this and i heard that
and icq doesn't hold a candle to the real deal
but i'll tell you the truth if you really want to listen,
one man spent more time with me tapping away
in one year than my ex-husband spent with me in
in nine years, so what's the choice, that's what i'd like to know?
do this, do that, he'd say, change yourself while you watch me snore,
compared to poetic professions, honest confessions,
hearing hearts break like glass, sincere recollections
and the reaching out of a voice that melts you saying
i love you i love you i love you tap tap tap?
one's real you know and one isn't and the
one that isn't is in the flesh.
go figure.

so here i am blown past the emptiness, pain unfurled
and i'm dying, i'm drowning, i'm plagued by dismay
but there's no explanations, i've nothing to say,
and yes, i totally understand charlie sheen decked out in
combat boots and fatigues with machine gun hoisted,
forcing the burning of mortgages, robin hood telling
society's prison it's screwed up beyond the possibility
of repair and michael douglas falling up and out to the streets,
sick of corporate america eating him alive without purpose,
without direction, days slipping away, slipping away gone
and as paul simon said, it's not just you and it's not just me,
baby, it's all around the world.

but maybe i'm in need of a motivational speaker
intense psychological examinations of my inner being,
to be saved by jesus, go to church, study power phrases,
take memory enhancement courses, who knows,
all i know is now i'm examining the little things -
you know, like the where and what and why i am -
the tiny things like priorities.

yeah, perhaps i'm a traveler destined to crash
or a garbage bag filled up with overflowed trash
or maybe i've fallen, i'm eve in disguise,
and there's things i can't fix and i'm just hypnotized
but i know i'm not god, can't sit in a big chair and
judge every choice you make, now can i?
and one day when it's time, perhaps i'll be
thrown into the lake of fire because
there's christians out there who know the way
and they tell me i can't get in, that's what they say
and maybe they're right because i've got this crazy
condition that's called human and i'm about ready
to get up, walk out the door, give up my 401K plan,
dental insurance, the excellent salary they pay me to
sit here and surf the net and write poetry because
they think i'm worth all that, but i say
none of this is worth anything, and i might
just grab my bag, zip on over to pick up
my daughter from school and start driving
toward the shore where i'll rent a little apartment,
open a little shop and have poetry readings
on wednesday nights.

but perhaps i'm a sinner deserving of hell
and maybe there's nothing to say or to tell
since i'm only the me that i am and i'm here
and i fail expectations, it's so very clear,
i never could live up to anyone's mold,
i fall short of the mark, or so i am told.

but maybe one day, christ will show up, all ready to prove
he was who he said he was and he'll fly down from the clouds
and stand in my front yard and say, come on out and talk to me,
and then i will, and he'll stand there and look at me and say
guess what? you screwed up. i'm leaving and you can't come.
or it will be buddha and he'll tell me i didn't recognize him,
that it was really him all along and he'll say
it's time it's time it's time, i told you before
but you didn't believe me and now the bus is leaving
but you don't have a ticket -
hahahahaha.

so, what the hell am i supposed to do,
lock myself in my room?
play with magnetic poetry
until i come up with something
important to say?
take words out of people's mouths and
remember the metaphors, write them down,
post them on the internet so people think
i'm some kind of poet or something?

yeah, maybe i'm eve in disguise
and i've already fallen
and what of it? y'know?
come here, baby! want a bite of apple?
it tastes so good! let's go
lie down underneath that tree.

but, trust me, i can't help any of this
because one of those names,
god or christ or allah or buddha or
maybe it was mother earth or mother goose,
made me human and it's a condition
we all share whether we're in india
or germany or korea or
california or washington, dc or
even if we have a short layover
in canada because the airports
are open and i'm not just going to sit here
trying to figure all of this out.


doreen peri, 10/11/2000

[Arcadia]

bravo!!! love both of them!!!

[Doreen Peri]

Thank you, Arcadia!

[Perdida]

goodness how long did it take you to write that first one?

Wow! yeah it is long but it didnt feel long at all, hand me caught and i was right there with you, it. Smiles... thanks for sharing lovely lady.

p.s. I forgot to mention "icq" THAT, was indeed a looong time ago. *grins*

[Doreen Peri]

goodness how long did it take you to write that first one?

It took me about 10 minutes, maybe. LOL!

thanks, Maree!!

yeah icq was way back when but believe it or not, it's still around and some people still tap tap tap away on it