Sunday, November 16, 2014

November 16, 2014 The Sunday Whirl/The Hand Lingers on The Soul -- Poets United Poetry Pantry #2227/ A Stylish Winter White

THE HAND LINGERS ON THE SOUL


sex                            one of the most interesting words in the English language
                  gets everyone’s attention
                  even after all these years
                                   
subtle                      the word always gives me trouble
                  i almost don’t notice
                  maybe I would notice it                      if it was subtle sex

toasty sex              gets my attention
                                    hot           nutty       crunchy

the hand lingers on the soul
                  but where is it
                  the hand                                  the soul

there are hints
                  but no road signs
                  no maps
                                                                        no one knows for sure

she yields to him
                  he tends toward her
                                     a subtle mix of emotions

there is nothing new under the sun
                  yet sex can be fresh
                                    an acquired palate

the taste of her lingering
                  snow covers the ground
                  second snow this season
                  mounded like breasts
                                   
the morning still dark
                  in the silence
                  her mournful cry carried on the wind

_____________________________


A STYLISH WINTER WHITE

today all is frozen
the landscape transformed
it is the desert after all
earth and sky the same                    a stylish winter white
                                   
           
the birds have come to the feeder
i wonder what they must think
what has happened to the world they knew
                                                           

                        when it snows the world is covered
as well as the sound
all is quiet

no place to swim
all is frozen
all is quiet
snow creates
a stylish winter white

November 16, 2014
















13 comments:

erin said...

anything might be new again. i ran in snow yesterday, annell, and i felt as though i hadn't been convinced i'd see it again. how new it rang for me, how painfully new.

our body is our opportunity for newness, as the earth's opportunity resides in her body.

but in our approach to sex in our society we try, as we do with all things (especially the earth), to make it a commodity, either to sell or to wield with power. so yes, sex, the way we use it, grows old, loses its power of resurrection through media, and then as a consequence, in common place.

your poem though - i love the repetition of the title throughout. it cleans me as i read. you create a clean space, reveal the snowy landscape, in which two lovers might come together and engage in, ironically, sex - yes, but that which is not sex, but which is sacred in the body.

xo
erin

Magical Mystical Teacher said...

This is a simply delightful exploration of sex, Annell! Did you have fun writing it? It certainly appears so! Thank you for gracing my Sunday with knowing smiles.

vivinfrance said...

Such a clever use of the words, Annel. Bravo

Jae Rose said...

The snow has really drifted magic into your words...laid them out beautifully like a soulful body carefully wrapped up safe and warm..part of the world inside and out

Björn Rudberg said...

The snow in the desert is such a special experience.. we spent a winter there many years ago, and I remember how it was with the whiteness in the desert.. thank your for the reminder.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Beautifully done, Annell, in the first poem I especially love - and feel - the two closing lines. In the second, I love the idea of the birds wondering what happened to the world they knew.

R.K. Garon said...

Hmmm!
ZQ

Mary said...

Indeed sex is as old as the earth, yet always new. There are, as you said, no road signs and no maps....each finds the way somehow & it is always fresh.. always. Thanks for taking part in Poetry Pantry.

http://inthecornerofmyeye.blogspot.com/2014/11/painting-winter.html

Catie Williams-Handcock Robinson said...

i wonder how you draw the shapes,
very tangled thoughts but deep insights.

consciouscacophony said...

What Erin has written in response to your poem resonates with me....for they are the reasons your poem touched me as well, particularly her last stanza. I think that sex can become new again when the hand lingers on the soul....when it becomes a sacred union of two souls lingering in a soulful space with each other and experiencing a bodily expression of that space....hence, why I love your title so much and the ideas of fresh snow and newness throughout. Gorgeous writing and such a poignant consideration of a topic that is all too easily bypassed as 'nothing new under the sun' and therefore often loses its wonder! You have recaptured the wonder here :-)

soulsmusic said...

Each piece holds its own strength...the first for its directness and the second for its description...

Elizabeth

Sumana Roy said...

insightful lines..

purplepeninportland said...

Unique, Annell. I love the way you took this apart.p, like an analysis.