Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Winnie reflects on Pulberry’s
Inability to love. He can thump,

Pull, punch, and poke out his
Cigarettes on her skin, but he

Won’t let her into his heart.
That’s the sad part, she thinks,

Sensing the flesh burn, the muscles
Aching, the bruises showing, the

Chill touching where the clothes
Are ripped. She sees him now in

Her mind’s eye, taking her on the
Floor giving carpet burns to her ass,

His knees, and even after that she
Still can’t get into his inner being,

Can’t please. He liked her hair, done
In the bun, the pink flowered night

Dress, the green stockings, and the
Fact she wore no underwear. Yet still

She’s outside of his heart and mind,
Without his love or deep concern or

Care. She hangs on his every word,
Each sigh, each moan, each look in

His eyes, each touch of his hand,
Each shaft of his penis. Nothing

More than laughter, sex and lust,
He’d said, no part or parcel of love

Between us. And that was the thing,
That phrase, those words, that bare

Statement of fact from his point of
View, that stung her, undone her and

Left out on a limb, fucked black and blue.

As usual, Terry, so cruel, so true, so sad. And yet, a very good poem.
Moi

Thank you, Sue. My Muse can be hard headed at times but she loves too.

Dadio--

A provocative piece and generally reads well. I would say that sex, itself, is an inherently violent act. I recall, as a child, walking in on my parents and believing that my father was hurting my mother. Indeed, nature often sets up a portal of violent competition for the right to have sex. And the sex act in itself is violent. I will never forget how a lover would always bite my shoulder hard, so hard that it would really piss me off, so hard that the force of the climax that followed would reach a level I have never experienced with another.

Now, all that said, at some point hard sex devolves into an abusive relationship -- no? That is, it's difficult to imagine putting a cigarette out on a woman's arm as erotic in any context. What's left in it for her at that point?

Final minor observation -- I think Pulberry's penis can have only one shaft.

Brutal, but that's the male . Scene borders on rape, or was it consensual? Or does one have a choice. Or is that just the way it is? And isn't that what poetry is supposed to show us? jim

Thank you, Jim & Hollweg.