Sunday, March 23, 2014

Getting to Know Mother

Its hard to express the desire
That woman dressing by lantern light
Tent flaps closed, rock candy silhouette
Playing underwater freeze tag with my libido

Red vines on a midnight stroll
Jealous twangs as we speak of old loves by the light of the fire
Wine from a plastic cup is sweeter
Grabbing hold of the moons porcelain handles and flying

The grip loosens somehow and talk is what there is
And if we learn something new it will take
Death comes when we take for granted
The sunlight that bathes the Mother's face


  1. "Playing underwater freeze tag with my libido" Love that line....camping is not all tales of bugs and fright :)

  2. ah, i see you have also seen the naked light at night. plastic cups, non-sensical chatter after a bottle of Patron.
    a few enebriated tears and " i love evwybody",.

    good write, mi amigo

  3. This so much reminds me of an odd comment (it was to me, at the time) by a counselor when I was seeking help at age 23 for my drunken rampages. "You need to get to know your mother," he said. He probably should have suggested AA first, since my raging thirst had to empty out the bottles before getting to the Mother. (The one behind the actual one I moved to Florida to get reacquainted with.) But he was right anyway, and I love this gem gleaming with Her iridescent voluptuaries. Amen and ahem.

  4. I found your title very intriguing, and wondered at its significance as I was reading the wonderful libidinous description of the woman silhouetted in the tent (she can't be mother) and imagining the moon with porcelain handles...Then I reached the finl couplet and went Aaaahhhh!
    Beautiful poetry, Corey.

  5. This reads more like 'getting to know Corey' ~~ I love it!

  6. Being taken for granted is the death of many a wondrous thing...

  7. Oh, my.
    I want to sing this. Just an incredible spill of words here.
    Especially drawn to:
    "rock candy silhouette
    Playing underwater freeze tag with my libido"

  8. I love the "rock candy silhouette"
    Your poem is sweet and shows the different faces of mom-we see as we grow!~
    I love how you took me there!
    Yes, mom is human after all ;D

  9. intrigue, and that tent flap ~