Naked on Exmoor

[TheFifthElement]

The moors languish at
my feet, watching;
a wanton lover, tattooed in
purple and gold.
He flaunts his nakedness,
brazen in spite
of the chill that raises
the hair on my arms
and stains my lips.
His words are the
whisper of a
breeze sending
shivers through
the scrub,
unfurling leaves.
He wants me -
I can’t resist.
My clothes fall
as a sudden,
burst of rain,
pooling to the
ground.
This is no time
for modesty;
and neither
the great winking
eye of the sun
or the motorist’s
horns beeping
as they pass,
can deny
this moment
of pure freedom.

[firefangled]

The moors languish at
my feet, watching;
a wanton lover, tattooed in
purple and gold.
He flaunts his nakedness,
brazen in spite
of the chill that raises
the hair on my arms
and stains my lips.
His words are the
whisper of a
breeze sending
shivers through
the scrub,
unfurling leaves.
He wants me -
I can’t resist.
My clothes fall
as a sudden,
burst of rain,
pooling to the
ground.
This is no time
for modesty;
and neither
the great winking
eye of the sun
or the motorist’s
horns beeping
as they pass,
can deny
this moment
of pure freedom.


This is so perfect...really:yawnb: There are so many incredible phrases:


...the chill that raises
the hair on my arms
and stains my lips.

and




My clothes fall
as a sudden,
burst of rain,
pooling to the
ground.

and



the great winking
eye of the sun...

What is remarkable is as you read the next word or phrase you realize it could only be that word or that phrase. Amazing poem!

[Lote-Tree]

The moors languish at
my feet, watching;
a wanton lover, tattooed in
purple and gold.
He flaunts his nakedness,
brazen in spite
of the chill that raises
the hair on my arms
and stains my lips.
His words are the
whisper of a
breeze sending
shivers through
the scrub,
unfurling leaves.
He wants me -
I can’t resist.
My clothes fall
as a sudden,
burst of rain,
pooling to the
ground.
This is no time
for modesty;
and neither
the great winking
eye of the sun
or the motorist’s
horns beeping
as they pass,
can deny
this moment
of pure freedom.

I love the imagery in this poem. It is great! :-)

[TheFifthElement]

Thank you firefangled and Lote. :)

I've been reading about the Imagist movement recently, and I was trying to create something like this :

"Sunsets

The white body of the evening
Is torn into scarlet,
Slashed and gouged and seared
Into crimson,
And hung ironically
With garlands of mist,
And the wind
Blowing over London from Flanders
Has a bitter taste"

which is by Richard Aldington. I failed, but I'm happy with the result all the same. :)

[Pendragon]

Fifth, I am awed by the fact that you get such phrases, and you have built another pylon with them. The visual poetry as well as your turn of phrase is amazing.

Pen

http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l108/AbsalomKane/Smilies/PuppyLove.gif

[firefangled]

I failed, but I'm happy with the result all the same. :)


What you have written here is every bit as successful as Aldington's phrasing.

Imagist art in the 21st century must used the images of thier own time. Yours for me is more grounded, I think, because of the more accessible elements you use to create your image. The first sentence is incredible in its capacity to grab our attention, much more so that the white body of the evening.

[QUOTE]
The moors languish at
my feet, watching;
a wanton lover, tattooed in
purple and gold.
He flaunts his nakedness,
brazen in spite
of the chill that raises
the hair on my arms
and stains my lips.
[QUOTE/]

[TheFifthElement]

Fifth, I am awed by the fact that you get such phrases, and you have built another pylon with them. The visual poetry as well as your turn of phrase is amazing.

Pen


Pen, you are too kind, and yes, another pylon! I wonder what Freud would make of that ;)


What you have written here is every bit as successful as Aldington's phrasing.

Imagist art in the 21st century must used the images of thier own time. Yours for me is more grounded, I think, because of the more accessible elements you use to create your image. The first sentence is incredible in its capacity to grab our attention, much more so that the white body of the evening.

These comments are so heartening firefangled, thank you. I actually feel really proud of this poem, but a bit bemused about where it came from. Perhaps those are the best type, like receiving an unexpected present.

[Pendragon]

Pen, you are too kind, and yes, another pylon! I wonder what Freud would make of that ;)

Probably just what you're thinking he would think, but what would he know about good poetry? http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l108/AbsalomKane/Smilies/ROFL.gif