The Dead Woman and Sex

 

 

1. The Dead Woman and Sex

The dead woman is thinking about sex.
Its renowned generative power, the excitement of being alive.
She remembers that orgasm is called the little death.
She thinks about anatomy, and how hers is dissipating.
She is fucking the universe.
She is melting, melting.
She is using her material self to make new things.
She is generating the future.
The dead woman knows the taste of ashes, the dryness in the mouth.
Her hands have bled from gardening, from the rough embrace of roses.
The dead woman remembers ice cream, perfume, the feel of a cat’s fur.
She is becoming those things.


2. More About The Dead Woman and Sex

She is thinking about you, the dead woman is.
She is thinking about the hands that touched her diminishing body, and the hands that wanted to.
She is thinking about the living bodies she wanted to touch, when she was alive, and those she did.
She remembers how her breasts fell to her sides when she lay down on her back.
She is lying down now.
Her breasts are falling.
The dead woman believes you, but she doubts the others.
The dead woman is tired from waiting.
Why is the dead woman still here?
There is the door; why doesn’t she go through?
All of her rub up against each other.
That is the sound you hear, that whispering.

 

~~~~~~

 

This week's prompt was:  " ... Marvin Bell and his Dead Man Poetry ...

"The form is comprised of two sections. One is titled “The Dead Man and …” and the second “More About the Dead Man and … .” All lines are written as sentence lines and enjambment matters quite a bit. The first two lines generally turn back on each other. The two versions seem to discover or expose different things about the Dead Man, one more internal in nature, the other external."

 

[Sometimes, after writing a poem, I feel like having a cigarette.]

 

Comments

[Ken]

Or a nap :o)

And moments of revelry

[Siren]

Sometimes, after reading one of your poems, I feel like having a cigarette, too.

[sbpoet]

Don't. Even. Thinkaboutit.

[James]

Nice! I love those questions is part 2. There's something about well-placed questions that keep a poem going in my mind for longer than it otherwise might. This one has been on my mind since I read it yesterday.

[mark]

Questions, cigarettes, death and sex. What's not to like?

I quite like this.

[vivienne blake]

I hope death is really like that. An intriguing take on the prompt. Bravo.

[hedgewitch]

Well, if we have to be dead, its nice to know there are compensations like this involved. Excellent close on this one.

[pamela]

Well, if I have that to look forward to, I'm ready!
Well done.
Pamela

[Rallentanda]

I like the idea of the dead woman becoming transformed into all the the things she loves...Excellent poem!

[Tumblewords]

an incredibly fine read.

[Victoria]

There is something almost metaphysical about this...the analogy between becoming one through sex and entering into the oneness of the universe after death. Enjoyed it.

[irene]

I truly enjoyed how you wrote about sex and death. The second part has a soft landing.

[Cynthia Short]

Both of your pieces were really amazing...such interesting and unique thoughts...great!

[carolee]

oh, this is a great one, sb! so glad you shared it with us. lots of things i read a couple times because i enjoyed them so!

[wayne]

sooo much to like about this Sharon..so I will just say i LOVED it...thanks for sharing

[Deb]

The first poem is full and round (makes no sense, probably) as if painted with acrylic and the second sketched with charcoal. They are of the same hand, but reach different places in my head. Funny how I had to describe my reaction physically, which is simple how I responded to your poem (as if I, too, need a smoke).

The last two lines seem to overlay the "styles", to me, to great effect.