Becoming Light: Poems New and Selected
even if she is most renowned for her bestselling fiction, Erica Jong began her publishing occupation as a poet and has a world attractiveness for her verse. Becoming Light comprises early poems formerly uncollected in booklet shape, choices from her past books and plenty of new poems. Erica Jong's poetry indicates her infrequent presents for inventiveness, wit, vigour, honesty and accessibility. Critics have generously praised Jong's distinctive poetic voice.
Stanzas; the others strode away within the pointed boots in their worry or have been kicked out by means of the stiletto heels of mine, or simply padded away in naked toes while the floor used to be too not easy or chilly or as scorching as white sand baked below the noonday sunlight. yet you flew in at the wings of your smile, powered by means of the engine of your cock, pushed through your lonely pumping center, rooted by means of your arteries to mine. We turned a tree with a double apical element, achieving both towards what a few name heaven,.
Hair attaining out like tendrils to intertwine. the 1st time I slept on your palms, I knew I had come domestic. Your physique was once a boat & I rocked in it, totally secure within the breakers, completely convinced of this love. I healthy into your palms as a boat matches into water, as a cactus roots in sand, because the sunlight nestles into the blazing horizon. the home sails all evening. Our desires are the flags of little ships, your penis the mast of 1 of the breeziest sailboats, & my breasts floating, part in &.
January in manhattan …the evening travels in its black send… —Pablo Neruda Black send of evening crusing throughout the international & the moon an orange slice tangy to tooth of enthusiasts who lie less than it, sucking it. someplace there are palm timber; someplace the ocean bluely gathers itself up & we could itself fall back into eco-friendly; someplace the spangles of sunshine at the ocean dazzle the eyes; yet the following within the nighttime urban, the black send of evening has docked for a protracted, darkish remain, & even the.
Wife—this is what poetry is about—Eskimo, Aztec, or perhaps Italian Rinascimento, or maybe the highfalutin Greeks or noble Roman-O’s. O the consistent turmoil of the human species— beds, graves, Spring with its widely used rosebuds, the inaccurate beds, the inaccurate graves, wars unremembered & limitations won in simple terms to be misplaced & misplaced back & misplaced roses whose misplaced petals reminded poets to carpe, carpe diem with whoever’s spouse or husband occurred to be simplest! O Turmoil & Confusion— you're.
God is the single, Molly, even if we name him Him or Her, tree shape or spewing volcano, Vesuvius or vulva, penis-rock, or reindeer-on-cave-wall, God is the only who eats our meat, Molly, & we yield our meat up willingly. Meat is our point, meat is our lesson. whilst bodies fill with one another, whilst our blood swells in our organs aching for an additional, physique of meat, center of meat, soul of meat, we're purely doing what God desires us to— meat becoming a member of meat to develop into.