A Senryū for My Paramour

“Let’s go back to the edge of [the] forest and name the paramours who led us to write… Write about sex, sexualized experience, sexless burning, the kiss of strange winds, the sexiness of death. Write about the arrow’s sheer barb. Or whatever else the paramour might mean to you—say, the strange wood we enter starting the next poem.” These are the words of Brendan MacOdrum, on this week’s Sunday Mini-Challenge: The Paramour, over at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads. I can say nothing but “Yes!” to such a call. So here is my bit:

“A Senryū for My Paramour”

He kisses secret places in the inside of my bones… and adds teeth. His caresses come with nail. When his touch arches my back and his wild thrusts make me gasp, he digs deeper… deeper… I stop him—before his chronic lust can scratch unhealable marks on my soul.

I no longer tell him to stop, just write him hard on foot and back, feeding him tales and poesy… until we both get what we want… or, what we can.

stroking flesh and bone,
my Poesy Paramour
writes off constant hurts

.
a wee note: I’m sure you noticed that the poem is actually a haibun. However, my Poesy Paramour and I are not in such good terms at the moment. So his bastard self can only have the senryū. Yes, the prose is mine, you greedy pain in the neck… and back… and hip… and gut…

Escape, by Yvonne Palermo
“Escape”, by Yvonne Palermo
(I’ve shared this piece before, but every time I read the artist’s words about the painting, I feel the need to re-share: “Escape is a portrayal of my inner person. The figure depicted represents my ability to let go and accept my constant state of pain in order to continue existing.”)
via

43 thoughts on “A Senryū for My Paramour

  1. I think it’s sexy and just right Magaly! Checking yours out before I write mine the last poem I shared fit this prompt but maybe I can do another. Not sure what to do I’m scratching my head. Lol!

  2. I love this:

    “I no longer tell him to stop, just write him hard on foot and back, feeding him tales and poesy… until we both get what we want… or, what we can.”

    That “write him hard” part is brilliant lingo.

  3. This is the sweet torture, the cross of desire love nails us too: the body breaking itself in two in order to receive the clouds and rain. Worlds begin here — and poems … loved it …

  4. Love how you put the passion on you pen… the pain of poesy.. and I truly loved your prose here… I feel I’m carved by pens in just the right way.

  5. Pain as Muse…a difficult relationship. I admire your strength in whipping (or riding) it into something that feeds your creativity and then serving the resultant feast to us, your devoted readers. You are forever an amazement.

  6. Those last three lines are like diamonds….formed in the crucible. Brilliant. And the painting (with the artist’s words) are incredibly moving….no wonder you feel so compelled to share it!

  7. This contains just the right amount of eroticism, balanced with your fine wit. the poesy paramour can be a jealous and selfish lover, but we stick around for the good times.
    😉

  8. He kisses secret places in the
    inside of my bones… and adds
    teeth. His caresses come with nail.

    A sensuously filled night. He sure knows his stuff! Realistically defined Magaly!

    Hank

  9. Ha! I love the sense of refusing to be dominated here, as well as turning things to one’s own advantage–I especially like the phrase between the prose intro and the senryu close–the best sort of coupling, indeed. (I originally typoed ‘soupling”–which made me laugh) Seriously good, Magaly. (And the painting is a very intense metaphor–glad you added.)

    • Now I’m laughing at “soupling”, too. One of these days, we need to create something with a considerable amount of typos. I bet it would be a cackler. 😀

      This one was really soothing to write. When I in this much pain I don’t sleep much, so my as well scream out (or gasp) some poetry, right? 😉

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