Let me light your match.

On By Richmond Road

I admire poets.

I read a bit of poetry here and there from people who seem to know what they are doing. I can’t claim to understand all of it and it’s hard, sometimes, for me to tell the difference between the poetry which goes way over my head and the poetry that just doesn’t make sense. I was never good at poetry during school. But that goes for a lot of things ….

Most of all, though, I admire poets for their bravery. The very best poems come from poets who are willing to hang their emotions out for everyone to see.

Now, I don’t really know how to write poetry, but even if I did I just don’t think that I’m capable of such bravery. I prefer to hide my emotions behind a sort of slap-stick carnality.

I read a poem from Ivor, here. I’m sure a lot of you are familiar with Ivor’s body of work and the deep well of emotion that he draws from. I was inspired by this one sufficiently to create an alternative version – not as any sort of competition but rather to indicate that I keep my own well of emotion tightly sealed, and that’s why, perhaps, I will never be called a poet ….

***

I’m hot for you, baby

I’m burning red

Want to rip off all your clothes

And throw you on the bed

You’re glowing like a beacon

And I’m seekin’ your heat

Going to lick you all over

Starting at your feet

Your love is like an ember

I remember, how you scream

I want to jump into your fire

My desire. So obscene

Is it some kind of virus?

Is it something I can catch?

I want to keep that fire smokin’

Keep it stokin’. Light your match.

***

7 thoughts on “Let me light your match.”

  3. I agree with Meg! There’s room for everything under the title “Poetry”. I don’t know anything about “proper poetry” or the rules, but I know what I enjoy reading, and I always enjoy reading what you write.🌻

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    Reply

  4. I want you so,
    I have a craving
    for yours lips…
    I need your touch,
    just gotta
    get my fix…
    So please press
    your body
    against my hips…
    Shower me with
    sweet caresses and
    a burning kiss…
    Hit bullseye, Baby,
    you just
    can’t miss…
    Let’s burn together
    in an
    overnight bliss…

    Sorry, not my best piece, to say the least. I’ll do better next time 😉

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    Reply

    1. This is great, buddy. I should have commented earlier. I miraculously found my way into the NYC Midnight Short Story 3rd round and have devoted almost the entire day to completely fucking it up. My little ditties – my sad little rhyming five minute waves at the audience, probably represent time better spent.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

      1. 😉 No worries, there’s no such thing as a too-late comment. Your words are always welcome when they arrive. I’m sure that day of word juggling was worth it 🙂

        Like

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