Poetry Set One

Created Mon, Dec 01, 2008 by 少佐. Modified Thu, Mar 25, 2010. Cached Fri, Mar 26, 2010.
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About Poetry Set One

This is Poetry Set One, which was originally published by myself here∗ on Sapphic Voices∗ under the pseudonym of Deb Siygess∗.

While I have made every effort to retain the original formatted appearance, please bear in mind that conversion to %APP% was a manual process, and I may inadvertently have introduced errors. If you find any, email me.

Set One Contents

One: Two Little Girls, a Little Less Alone

Two: Flashback Through

Three: Synchronicity

Four: Sang Sweetly to Me

Five: The Smear

Six: Poetry

Seven: Lonely Road to Nowhere

Eight: You'll Know

Nine: I Wonder...

Ten: Prejudice Has Layers

One: Two Little Girls, a Little Less Alone [top]

Your fingers drawing lines on my flesh
Filling in the spaces between my skin
Touching out the boundaries between us
Soft erasers rubbing out pencil drawings
I see your body in the darkness, just your
Porcelain skin glistening in moonlight
Your boundaries delineating your spaces
Feminine curves alone against
The cruelly right-angled room
But not alone against the cold
Not tonight
Even as you begin to caress through my
Safest boundary of inner loneliness
You touch brilliant in the darkness, your
Hands ripple through the water of my nerves
Divining my secrets through the veil of our
Silence

Your fingers teasing life into my soul
Rubbing out barriers which feel cold within
Delineating the way it shall be between us
Two little moths in the light for one night
Your silhouette slides down next to mine
Eyes glinting in the almost-light, your
Secret places delineating where we can go
My fingers drawing graffiti
On your body, sensory words
The solace we both longed
To find
The warmth of your softly like-minded frame
Sliding grooves into the boundaries which
People use to define and label our most
Intimate of shared understandings
That we are the same in all ways except
This

Your arms blurring us out into one feeling
Being, two little girls, a little less alone
No boundaries to delineate our shared need
Two cheetahs running through the brush
Your moist breath urging me toward the
Softest, wettest, secret spaces of you
Darkness laced with vanilla
Hardness ensconced by gossamer
Dripping
Gazes locked in the half light, a moment
Where we almost feel each other's blood
Rushing through our yearning frames as if
Our bodies are less than two but much more
Than just one, as if we all got mixed up
Together

Your body puts the S back into sensuality
And I am fitting my curves against yours
We meld through our shrinking spaces
Two little mice safe within a jungle
Our mouths and fingers speaking the silent
Second language that only girls know
Words of sighed sound
Speaking through touch
Swan song
Eyes closed to the meaningless half light
Minds lost except to each other's bodies
The reality of our movements the only
Reality that can moisturize the river that
A life lived in fear of this world has
Dried

Oh baby, I tried not to love you
Tried so hard, that night, but
I couldn't not

Two: Flashback Through [top]

Random remembrances flashing through
Reminders of how we were but now are not
Blade of loneliness stabs then twists
Random remembrances of someone new
Someone wild, someone special and
Real and pure and sensually intoxicating
A best-fit curve arcing through life's
Lines, made parallel by other's false
Dichotomies

Flashback through to her touch, her face,
Her hair, eyes, lips, skin, shoulders,
Her nose and the way it wrinkled so sweetly,
So impishly when she laughed at something
The way her cheeks dimpled prettily when
She smiled or parted her lips to kiss, or to
Whisper something softly right
In my ear on the heat of her
Breath

Flashback through, living her touch in
The present randomly, most reminders of
The fact I am alone making her come to me
Like an idea, usually at 07:00AM on a
Morning that was as cold as last night,
A night defined by her being gone, during
Which I remembered only the
Warmth of her fingers and
Skin

Through memory and advancing age I can still
Feel how her touch bleeds through from
Where we were, out into today's conscious
Moments, at 07:00AM on this pretty nondescript
Morning that smells of coffee and sandalwood
And Intuition, one that could never smell
As delicious as she nor taste
Anything so special as she
Was

Three: Synchronicity [top]

I look back
To you
And there is always a question
It is the question that drew us
Together
Back then, it is the question that
Haunts where darkness treads silently
Between deepest fears
Hiding within the wet, sticky places
Between my bones, beneath my skin
It is the question that has
No answer because to answer...
...I am afraid of answers, and yet
I seek the answer to the
Question of "am I belonged?"
Because I need to know this
I need to know, need to
Belong to us

The question of
Sameness
Two women dancing through each
Other's wakes yet not far enough to
Answer
Do you see what I see? Do you
Feel as I feel? Does your breath
Taste like mine?
Do we laugh and cry and fear
In the same ways?
Is the world within, ensconced
By the silent boundaries of
Your skull, windowed through by
Your beautiful chestnut eyes...
...Is your world like mine? Are we
The same? Two of one kind? Or
Are we so different, you and I?
Or not?

Why can't I know?
Synchronicity
Our bodies clocked together as one, bled
Through each other's inner rythms but yet
Not
Are you the same as I? Do we
Face the same turmoil in life?
The same struggle?
Do you wriggle and moan against me
As I do you?
Is the world you see like mine, defined
By oppression and the fear, the brutalized
Co-opting of our
Inner energies...
...Forces of Nature, females. thus...
...Are the windows to your soul
Reflecting me back through you,
Or you into me through collective
Womankind?

Please... oh please...

Four: Sang Sweetly to Me [top]

Do you still remember me?

I remember everything about you, from your
Black-dyed boycut hair to your copper-red
Pussy fuzz; from your liquid eyes to the
Delightful shade of nail polish you wore;
I remember what we got up to at night, the
Good times we shared and the bad; our
Arguments that often ended with a cigarette
And a kiss. But there is this single moment,
From way back then, years ago before much of
Anything had happened to either of us, that
Is forever imprinted into into my mind, as
Everlasting as your space inside my heart is,
First love of mine that you are - you might
Not remember this time, but I remember.
Perhaps I will forever

"Nature is a language - can't you read?"
- 'Ask,' Morrissey

Remember when we were at my parent's home
One night, little you in one of your
Favorite V-neck tee-shirts, and little me
In my usual comfort-wear sports apparel?
Remember how I was pouring out mugs of
Too-strong sickly-tasting coffee, and how
You snuck up behind me? I didn't know you
Were there until I heard you humming the
Melody from a Morrissey track we both were,
At that particular time, fixated on

"Shyness is nice, and shyness can stop
You from doing all the things in life
You'd like to." - 'Ask,' Morrissey

Called "Ask," the song was simple but the
Sentiments expressed within were ones that
Suddenly became meaningful as I felt your
Breath warming the side of my neck,
Irritating me with soft pleasure as I
Continued to try stirring the sugar into
Our keeper-upper coffees, and you watched
Me doing this while I was trying to not be
Watched. Do you remember this time?

Remember how you moved quite close to me,
Right behind me, not all that close but
Close enough that the small space between
Our bodies - between your front and my
Back - turned warm from our shared heat?
How you placed your hands on my tired
Shoulders and began to slowly, ever so
Slowly, rub them with those fingers of
Yours that I always liked to suck on?

And you sang sweetly to me, with that sexy,
Husky smoker's voice you had that always
Made me go all warm and sticky inside,
Made me want you despite myself and my
Fears, your dulcetly whispered tones slowly
Filtering down to my pelvis, making neural
Switches connect deep within the moist world
Of my body, melting the words from "Ask"
Into my slowly relaxing and increasingly
Grateful mind?

"So, if there's something you'd like to
Try, if there's something you'd like to
Try, ASK ME! I won't say 'no'. how could
I?" - 'Ask,' Morrissey

Remember the line you sang, at one point,
Right into my ear, your cheek so close to
Mine that I could almost feel your nose
Against my skin, because I had tipped my
Head back to let your magical hands have
Access to more of my body as I began to
Hunger for your touch? Remember how I
Growled softly, lost in the sound of your
Voice and your fingers on my shoulders and
The curvatures of your luscious warm body,
Curves that were, at this point, pressed
Temptingly against my back? Remember what
You sang to me as we stood there, little me
And little you, with my parents asleep and
No-one to stop us from going upstairs
Together?

Do you remember, sweetie?

"Because if it's not love then it's the
bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the
bomb, the bomb, the bomb that will bring
us together." - 'Ask,' Morrissey

I remember.

Five: The Smear [top]

The first moments were nice, my fingers
Mindlessly connecting with all the
Hidden sweet spots my flesh has, as I
Writhed on my bed trying to coax my weary
Body into flying through the clouds, but then
Memories of you threw the dead-bolt on
The doors of desire, what once might
Have been pleasure transmuting into
Wretched waves of emptiness as I lay
There, naked, crying because I realized
You were the reason why I started doing
Whatever it was I intended to do, at that
Particular time

Naked little me padded into the kitchen
Shivered as the coldness bit into my
Exposed skin, like aloneness just clawed into
My heart earlier without any warning at all
Flicked the switch that would make the
Fluorescent light above my head scare
Away the darkness and my eyes sting until
I was alert. I pressed the button on the
Coffee machine, my wet fingers leaving
A sticky smear that smelled of me, my
Only real mark on this world that's run
By beings whose rules differ from mine
Dramatically

I stood there, bare-footed to the floor,
Every extremity slowly freezing to ice,
Thinking of you, the smear that smelled of
Me lurking on the coffee machine still,
Tormenting me until I wiped it away like I
Wished I could wipe out every single memory
Of the night we shared last week, the one
Where we both knew we only had one night
To explore each other but slept together
Anyway just because we were there and
Because neither of us had anyone with whom
To feel safe, and loved, within the arms
And bodies of

Six: Poetry [top]

Poetry
Communication of sensation, dialogue, feeling
Consciousness flowed through pen, crayon, chalk,
lipstick, quill, typewriter, eyeliner or keyboard
Precious moments from someone's life colored
With messages, special meanings, and a unique
Reason for existing; like every Poetess has
A reason for existing so, too, does every
Poem she create have its reason for being

Birthed
For this woman, poetry is the ephemeral of
Experience nurtured like a flower until it
Blooms to tangibility, legibility, becomes a
Shareable something that you can read through
And read through again; something that will
Never grow old, never tire, never leave, never
Change (except at the next revision, of
Course). But why do I write for you?

Because
I need to express something personal of myself,
Want to leave my mark somewhere, hope that these
Written marks I leave might outlive this shell
Of flesh I wear, this fragile body that is always
At risk of being hurt, or defiled, or killed;
When my life is done, I hope that there may be
A little something that's of me remaining in this
Teflon-coated, heartlessly non-stick world

Happiness
I write for you because I need to believe in
Something; I need to believe that there is
Some light left in the big wide world I see
Outside my front door, read about in the news,
Hear of from my friends; I need to believe that,
Somewhere out there in the wilderness, there is
A woman who is experiencing something like
The things I have felt while in my own. Maybe

You?
So I write things for you, precious woman that
You are, Goddess-appointed protectress and
Embodiment of Mother Earth, carrier of all
Burdens bestowed upon Her by The Man, on the
Happenstance that you might feel through some
Images hidden just out of sight between my lines;
If you can feel a little less alone with your
Memories, caressed by these simple words of mine,

Then
My poems will have a reason to be. But the
Reason for their being becomes yours, as you
Read them and feel them, which is why poems,
Like music and other forms of communication
Between members of womankind, are as special
As every single woman and girl out there in
The same cold wilderness I feel lost within

Seven: Lonely Road to Nowhere [top]

I walk a road less traveled
Heart crushed by life's unfair
Tired of selling out what's left of me
To memories of what we shared
I threw it all away behind me
Unspoken pain too much to bear
Then I began to walk
Down this lonely road
To nowhere

I looked in all directions
For signals, or dotted lines
To indicate which place I'm in
But couldn't read the signs
So I just steeled myself to wander
Wherever bleeding hearts would dare
Thus heading further
Down the lonely road
To nowhere

I handed you my heart
In a jar of broken dreams
And I cried because you wanted me
Though not for reasons I could see
So I left your love behind me
Now I'm bones without a care
Forever walking
Down this lonely road
To nowhere

This road leads to nothing but
Endless streets of all the same
I started running when I was so much
Shattered glass in a twisted frame
Now this Godforsaken highway
Is all I've left to share
As I continue
Down my lonely road
To nowhere

Eight: You'll Know [top]

Touch me, and you'll know
That the truth of this matter isn't
Defined by other people's preconceptions
Of you and I.
Look into my eyes, see something
That you'd never have seen had you just
Remained at the distance your comfort
Level decreed was safe.
Kiss me, taste the knowledge of
A bone-deep truth that transcends the
Socialized assumptions you, I, we all
Had to grow with.
Feel me, relaxing into you like
Other people will never let us relax
Anywhere, anywhere else; I know you
Need our time, too.
See me, closing my eyes to your
Touch, like you always wanted me to,
Like I always wanted to; feel how the
Truth comes from within.
Love me, loving you in whichever
Ways I can, let yourself understand
The truth; this flesh I wear will
Never define my heart.

I am not defined by a label, nor by a
Kitsch set of outdated stereotypes, nor
By any simplistic assumption of what
Constitutes a congruent sex. My body
Will not yield to other's attempts to
Define it, nor will it succumb to the
Trappings of phallocratically-determined
sex traits, nor will it submit to
Attempts to deny its fundamental truth.

That there's more to a woman than her body.

You can look into my eyes and see; you
Can watch me moving my frame, and you can
Feel; you can hear me in pain, and you
Just know. But that's because you're one
Privileged to know me in ways that the
Ones with the labels, and the knives,
And the hatred, and the stereotypes, and
The urge to hurt that which does not fit
Into a category, will never be allowed.

So touch me, don't be afraid to
Learn the truth of me, the truth I carry
Within me; the truth of me, something
So easy to understand.
Caress me, this skeleton covered
With skin that is the wave guide I flow
Through, feel the pattern it now fits
Wriggling beneath your warm hands.
Close your eyes, feel my fingers
Communicating silently through your skin
Soft words which mean more than the things
Other people always think.
Hold me, and feel the truth of
Me burning through my frame, a truth
You were too afraid to believe because
Of all you feared.

Nine: I Wonder... [top]

When you see my scars
I wonder
If you know?
Would you ever
Let it show
If you knew
How my story goes?

Me and you, dancing
Aren't you curious?
Want to touch?
To understand
How very much
Of my story
Is etched in me?

You and me, kissing
I got lost
In your eyes
Hear the shudder
In my sigh?
Is there a place
We can go from here?

Us, at your door
And I wonder...
Was it fate
That led us
Past their hate
To seek, and
To find ourselves?

You and me, all alone
Can we wonder?
Will we show
All the things
That we know
Of our bodies?
Leave the rest outside?

Ten: Prejudice Has Layers [top]

So here I stand at the dark-glassed doors,
Which lead to a space I feel to be part
Of and yet, for now, am not wanted within
Safe, accepting places

As I stand looking at these walls of glass,
I feel trapped out in the cold of this
London night, on the wrong side of safety
And personal security

These reverse-cage doors are designed
To keep women within, and men without
Forgive me for not understanding, but
Why then am I outside?

The doors lead into a space uniquely safe
Somewhere women go to be with womankind
But I can't join without making silent
Demands for inclusion

Those doors made of glass seem to mock,
Label and cheapen my entire existence
Glass-defined woman, by these doors you
Cannot pass through

The doors tempt me to question the reality
Of this world, where 'female' is defined by
Whether you can bleed, bear children, renew
I am less

I look at the doors, lost to thoughts like
These, as I turn and walk into the darkness
Once again naked within its cold embrace
Confused, hurting, realizing...

...not just how prejudice has layers...

...but how love understands

Poetry Set One

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