Monday, September 15, 2008

The Poetry of BDSM

perversity, like poetry,
transforms objects
transforms words
transforms vision
transforms people
transforms hearts
and changes lives.

oatmeal boxes
paper clips
a magic marker
a tube of lipstick
blue bandanna
coil of rope
a shirt, a skirt
a small brown notebook
a pair of earrings
the color pink
a strip of wood
and frozen peas
glass of water
pot of tea
a bowl of milk upon the floor
licked while down on hands and knees

and a cold, hard chain.

our explorations
transform objects
transform language
transform pain.
paper clips and dried azaleas
never will be quite the same.

i will never be the same.

3 comments:

Paul said...

Oatmeal Girl, your explorations have made you much more than what you were.
Only you can say whether this is good or bad.
Warm hugs,
Paul.

mamacrow said...

like this one by far the best so far :)

oatmeal girl said...

Thanks to you both. My physical explorations left me with a butt that still displays some interesting designs.

In poetry, I'm doing more experimenting with nouns and rhythm. Very exciting. Not to mention pleasing to my teacher.