Just to clarify... even though i know that somehow it will be twisted again. I realized the broken telephone game really functions in real life. What we read and what we say often can be mismatched... So i need firstly... to clarify, the blog post on well sex before i go raving on about something else.
Right, the post was not about me being a prud and saying NO SEX ... please my fellow people, i write about sex, and though in a slightly darker light... So i am not against sex, purleese it is something awesome and something that is unbelievably pleasurable... or so i am told. So sex is not off the menu, it will stay on. But this is what i am against finding EVERY MINUTE THING and NIT PICKING to find sexual imagery when sometimes ... it is just a sub plot... i mean if it is like the main thing and the title of the poem/book is (to sound really uninspired) "sex" then i guess what you see is what you get. However if the poem is something about "nature", yea i know certain things in nature relate to sex (cos it is mother nature or something like that) but sometimes there are other things which are more poignant and more obvious to write about... especially if sexual imagery is not obvious. Another thing... sex is easy to write about, i mean how can it go ? in-out, out-in, erm role play... whatever you can think of... yea but there is not much to write about so it really cant go wrong :D... But who am i to say anything... Lit is subject to our own interpretations and sex is an interpretation so i am not one to say anything. All i can say is the eye chooses to see what the mind chooses to see. oh and GET A LIFE H.
so i shall end with a poem :D
titled :Autumn mornings
I wish that everyday was morning.
That hourly the oriole will chant her
sorrowful tune, sombre and mourning.
I wish that every morning was a brief moment.
A wrist watch on my arm
the leather strap, tight as a straight jacket.
Ticking, reminding me of the lack that i have.
I wish that every brief moment was like a lifetime.
Where we could sit on the beach, days passing with you,
as the waves thrash. The yellow umbrella over
our heads, as we watch the sun sink into the ocean,
the flower in your hair, with the sun dress against your fair skin.
I wish that every lifetime was this time.
Where i am with you, lying there beside you
and the grass between our toes.
I found you where i wanted, resting on my shoulder. A single candle.
I steady you in the palm of my hand and you begin a free fall in my outstretched arms.
As you sing, tick, dance, and now you leave this ribbon in my hand. It is autumn.
