since i couldn't think of anything for this week's TOP, i've decided to post another one of the poems that i wrote for my creative writing class. it's an interesting poem to say the least. it's a little on the rated "r" side, but i hope that the images are not too strong and overwhelming. critiques and questions are welcome.
Painting by Moonlight
The moonlight caresses the purity of my bare skin
through half-opened blinds; a fresh canvas
on which to paint the beautiful portrait of Your cruelty.
i plead for the painting to start, to feel the strokes
as they make red lines and splotches. Your brush is cool
as it meaders down my spine; i shiver, anticipating the first
stroke. It slices through the air and i welcome the heat as it cuts
through my resistance, opening the door
to a hidden part of my soul; a door only You can open.
i hear a voice counting each stroke and realize
it's my own. A cloud settles in front of the moon, throwing
the room in darkness. i lose myself in the loud sharp strokes
of Your painting, needing and wanting, though the pain
is almost too much. With each stroke bruising
Your canvas, i remember the tough road we traveled
to get to this place, and the reason You chose this beautiful
isolated house on the outskirts of Savannah.
With no neighbors, there was no one to hear my cries.
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6 comments:
Phew, this is way out of my comfort zone - dramatic piece of writing though, I can only hope the narrator lived to tell this tale. Heavy stuff!
I wonder how many have copies of this picture they never display.
Well written piece on a scary topic!
disturbing and powerful
Wow...yes, I see why you have rated this 'R' and why it is tagged 'secrets'. I really don't know what else to say about it. But I did like how you expressed the narrators self-fulfilment of this act and not just the 'painters' satisfaction.
I'm not quite sure what to say. I do question your use and lack of uppercase and lowercase letters though...
Great poem expressing something that very few people will admit to being a part of.
-Bev
to Bev: the capitalization (and de-capitalization ?) was intentional.
to stan: i wonder sometimes too.
to sweettalkingguy; yes. the narrator lives, every time.
other notes> the people in my class thought it was a poem on abuse. it is not any such thing.
thank you for your comments.
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