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.”)

Island of Pain

I never planned
for their cracks in my bones,
for their poison in my blood,
for their teeth
gnawing at my gut.

I was born of Aries—
surfing fiery waves,
dancing to the moon
in darkness
and bright.

Then the Nosoi warped
my course, and took me
(kicking and swimming)
into their Island of Pain.

“I won’t suffer your whims,”
I said, crafting it up as I went.
“I will feed on all the hurts
you birth, and morph
your island into my home.”

I never planned
for their warping ropes
(I was born of Aries),
I will fight them
with what comes
out of the blood
and the bone
and soul.

Process Note: on his first contribution to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads’ Sunday Mini-Challenge, Brendan decided to go big and asked us for a piece “about a situation or time or relationship… as if it were an island encountered on the wide wild sea.” My poem glimpses into what happens in the island I found. It also dances with the theme of Sanaa’s Prompt Nights: Are you “Spontaneous or Not?” And lastly, I wanted to continued Rereading My Pratchett, so I invited the Muse to keep in mind the following quote, from Lords and Ladies, while we birthed today’s piece: “…if you stay here and keep trying to call the Lords and Ladies, then you’ll be up against me again. Not playing stupid games in the daylight, but real witchcraft. Not messing around with moon circles, but the true stuff, out of the blood and the bone and out of the head.”

Nosoi – in Greek mythology, “spirits (daimones) of illness, plague and disease.”

Ixchel (Mayan Rainbow Goddess), by SunshineShelle
“Ixchel”, by SunshineShelle
(She looks like she’s ready for anything… and everything.)