Hello everyone, good to be here! i'll try to live up to the hype of being 'prolific' (funny i've only thought of that word in baby terms)
well thanks so much for the people who gave a quick look to the poem, i'm glad to say recording went well, i hope i can play it soon for you. here is the RSV of the poet, I put in the one because I felt it would be too much putting in both old and new. Enough from me, please comments are welcome! many thanks
Abi
The Poet
He opened my eyes to the banquet he created,
I sat at the table dispensing of grace.
I bent my head wondering, which way to eat,
He encouraged; suck and chew.
So, I did, letting go of my urges,
that they may wreck carnage. However, by the
time I was done
I was the plundered one.
The images of his lines, drew me to gastronomic
vistas I had never imagined. In a land
where I was just a tourist. He bid me
live, so I became a national of
that country, where his tongue ruled.
He plundered me with his mellow voice and
I laid still, hoping to catch every last
orgasmic explosion as his presence bursted
over me.
He spoke. I climaxed over and again,
arching my back , catching, every wave of ecstatic rapture.
Moving in inertia, praying, his stream would flow on and on,
tantric in its continuity.
His words were a signal of things to come
I wanted, anticipated eagerly.
He laid the bed with languid overtones
I plunged its depths with abandon,
his sentences stroked my secret places,
he bid me ‘come’. I yielded.
The dip and rise of his tone, washed over my
post climatic mien . He stoked me again
when his voice lifted
as in song.
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Comments
Can you introduce me to this poet?
Hi Abi!
I absolutely enjoy when poetry dares to say the unspeakable! The journey of the poem is raptureous (is that even a word!) and... of course, as soon as we realise the banquet as metaphor... the words are taking 'us' somewhere we expect to go and simultaneously hope to arrive... I guess something like the nature of climaxing. Along these lines I felt the poem worked really well.
I wondered a little bit about the tourist/country metaphor because I thought it might be competing with the banqueting idea... But that was a minor thought, something for you to reconsider I guess.
For me, some of the words stuck out from the others and didn't seem to fit the mood; Gastronomic, explosion, bursted. I felt like it drew attention away from the flow - It didn't seem in character with his mellow voice, (hell, he's a poet) and the fact he that is quite smooooth... I can see tho that you are also wanting to capture 'loss of graces' like that Maxell line in the song 'were you embarassed about the way you freaked?' What?! Anyway, I wonder if some tightening around 'the peak' of the poem could give it the impact without the roughness ;)
PS about the mellow voice
Just crawled back as I remembered something. About the poet's voice, we know a poet uses dynamics with his voice, where he is first a flowing river, then a gushing stream, a cascading waterfall, a terrible wave, a buffount tide, maybe a calm sea, a stormy ocean or a trickle of water coming down to tempt the tongue of the promise of slake.
Have i made sense?
I have in reference Daniel Beaty's 'Knock knock'- its on YouTube, check it out and tell me what you think. Cheers
Many Thanks
I was thinking about the full experience of sight, sound, taste and emotion in 'the poet' so vista, tourist, country, was that enjoyment of poetry in a level where i had just initially been glimpsing 'snatches' so lets imagine, you visit a place and you see the sights and its all so wonderful but you have limited time to even enjoy that, then the mayor says 'live here if you wish'
well i will look at it again, its just that presently, my brain is mush, i've been battling with a bad case of flu but as soon as my brain solidifies again-to its usual jello consistency. I'll be reading again.
Many thanks and I would also like to meet you, maybe darling Pete can help?
Have to go, i really need to go lie down!
The banquet poem
Out of that shower now! Brrr! Not having sat at such a banquet in, well, a very long time, I am under-qualified to comment on the action of the poem (lol). As poetry, the lines I felt particularly effective are 'dispensing of grace', 'I became a national of that country where his tongue ruled', 'he laid the bed ...languid...' , 'his voice lifted as in song.'
Generally the poem reminds me of some of the better prose in Fanny Hill - I always find erotic prose at its most erotic when it is delivered in robust metaphor rather than as an explicit 'Haynes Car Manual' / mechanical kind of description. The piece does prhaps raise the question; is it best described as a poem or a prose piece? Or as something in between?
and again
I am a student of Niyi Osundare's school of thought 'poetry is meant to be enjoyed by everyone and mean something to everyone' so maybe I try to incorporate that, so there's something for the poet and something for the audience.
Martin, Segun and Tina deserves thanks for the last line, their caution on brevity, helped save the wit of this poem
Poem I think
Finally, i was worried, you might drown in there!
Thanks for the comments, i used a lot of my favourite words in there.
I would think it would qualify as a poem but I write mainly for performance so i know i have been accused of writing like i'm telling a story instead of reciting a poem. i hold my background responsible (remind me to tell you about the Olaleye history) I still honestly don't know how to decipher the difference or do it. if we still differ, should we accept poetic prose? or prosaic poetry?
Cool Poem
Absolutely love the poem. Looking forward to reading more of your work.
many thanks
I hope to deliever. many thanks
The Poet poem
Hi Abi, Having read your poem, I'm just going to take a long cold shower then perhaps I can muster some comments!
Shower
Still in the shower Pete?!