Making love in the dark,

October 16, 2008 at 6:59 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 20 Comments
Tags: , , ,

red tulips in a vase
I dreamed we were holding hands
listening to a brass band in the park
I dreamed the scent of tulips in a vase
(sight is not vision)
and your laugh

Woke with a taste most particular and a
delicate tremor in the heart.
I dreamed the most discrete caress
pleats in a long forgot yellow dress
and your laugh,

red tulips around a pagoda
a latticework utmost ornate
containing a brass band in the park
red tulips in a vase
(making love in the dark)
and your laugh.


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  1. oh, so colourfully surreal, the yellow dress and the red tulips; intoxicating.
    Thanks Sumedh, the garden is looking spectacular.

  2. Perfectly crafted and the result is a wash of a romantic memory. A wonderful dreamlike evocation in the same way that a dream doesn’t have an image but attaches the impression. I bet your dreams are peachy. 🙂
    Thanks Mary. I have this long complicated theory about dreams and images…

  3. erotic and sensual, lovely and haunting

    brings to mind Picasso’s painting of his mistress sleeping

    dreams can be like that–leaving a discrete impression, specific details which convince of its veracity
    Thanks, Ms Alley,

  4. i am so curious about yellowdress. do you remember: Inana, you have the power to destroy that which can not be destroyed, and to set up that which can not be set up, said Enki.

    in the shadows, honeylike movements within glass

    i have a longing for mamu and those sounds again and a fear of the glimmering orb and the reflections. all those friends feel so far away and what we had was a true magic. You and she have carried on, coursing through chasms and falling, tumbling into deeper more real and sparkling versions of yourselves. I long for that drive, the flood-swell and the tumblenotes and yet

    well, you write and you cast your nets and i squirm in the air~hauled catch and flicker back to the sea as the land.fear grips me and this sililoquay came unexpectedly and im unsure of its use, but it’s here now.

    paul. you are an artist
    and so are you, Ebby. You are the most wonderful poet I have ever read, even this quick comment you have written is alive with an artist’s spirit and a poet’s intimacy with the language.

  5. “I dreamed the most discrete caress”…got my attention first.

    Does the yellow dress have anything to do with Deborah Lake’s play? Since if it does, red tulips and yellow dress gain a different meaning.(and brass brand)…
    I don’t know the play ay all, Annamari. I’ll have to look out for it.

  6. beautiful feels like some kind of word sculpture with unique placement a volume both inside and outdoors with music and primary color i can see clear as daylight and then inside darkened heartbeat place that feels the same while in picture contrast looks quite different
    thankyou Tipota, your comments are simply amazingly wonderful gifts,

  7. Wonderful poem dear. A pleasure to read.
    Thank you.
    You’re welcome and thankyou,

  8. Tulips are my favorite!

  9. A beautifully written reflection of the nature of dreams and sensations.
    Thanks, Brad.

  10. Well controlled. Thought links are credible – it works really well. Enjoyed the images.
    Not sure about the bracketed fifth line – breaking from image into concepts. I accept you need a bracketed line to match the near mirror image at the bottom but maybe go for something as sensual as the rest of the piece?
    Really liked it.
    Thankyou. I’ll certainly take your feedback into consideration. It’s rare for someone to offer suggestions and it certainly helps me to understand the effect certain technical devices have, so a double thankyou.

  11. and slowly we will undress
    and will go beyond caress…

  12. “Red Tulips and yellow dress, around a pagoda and listening to brass brand” and within this loudness, there is the softness of “discrete caress, her laugh, ornate lattic work and making love in the dark”. I like the way of balance within this dream of yours.. tempering everything just so.

  13. I think angels work harder at night, in the dark…You see, some of them stitched the dress for her and some other picked those tulips, and all presented you this music flavored dream…and they did not forget to blow an amazing fragrance into it:)

  14. very nice.

  15. hi! missed you. i love the repetition and the circling and the way you still managed to say so much. my favorite part is the line “sight is not vision.”

  16. I can swim in this feel. I like the continuing saga of the yellow dress. I can hardly wait until it meets the red balloon — coming soon to a theater within you. Thanks, Paul.

  17. i was sure i’d commented here, Paul but i guess i must have been dreaming *grin …

    the passionate sincerity of this is so genteel, exquisite. no, sight is not vision … weird, if they’re right about sight being largely memory then this almost places them antithetically … one with limits, t’other free … and the poem energises both

    the alliance of those bracketed lines is integrally sensual …

  18. yeah, like the rep in this like everything

    if i was to change anything:

    “Woke with a taste most particular ”

    would be particular–

    needs to appeal more to the senses or something–just seemed a flat word– but excellent poem–imo

  19. So many wonderful comments, thankyou. I wish I still had time to answer them all individually but they do warm the cockles of my heart (whatever they may be). Thankyou.

  20. Hearkens back to the yellow dress..I like the continuation.

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