The Granite Girl

By nur hidayah

you write of robins wrapped
in his tree trunk neck
warbling pitter patter tunes
of the sleep talk of Madam Moon.

the only music i hear is in clubs,
throbbing madly as bodies spasm
in all directions like satellites
trying to capture waves of a memory
of the melody god smeared
onto their then holy mouths
when they slipped out bawling
their spikes of change staking
through several hearts, across time.


you write of dandelions snagged
in the babbling brook hair of girls
with violent dreams.

the only nature i see are abhorrent
abomination---pockmarked blocks
puncturing through grey clay
and an orbit of metal carriages
moaning drunkenly in between,
carrying souls with battery bars
reduced to one.


you write of the tips of tongues
touching crushing sparkle kisses
and tears tearing trails down
frozen laughing faces and of
blissful contortions of orgasmic
dance.

the only thing i feel was dripping shame
as you dribbled out of me
your baritone chest heaving
against my beansprout back.
and this seed growing in me...
i wish i could write her out
an aeroponic baby
sleeping in your easel elbow
where she could be lulled to sleep
by your wingbeat heart
away from me.


but oak man, my love
choked and dying, i welcome you my love
your bark grinding 'tween these iron thighs
branches crushing  these graphite limbs
leaves closing these traffic eyes
frozen at red


just


switch the sun on, darling
when you get out of bed.









Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2010 nur hidayah
Published on Tuesday, August 31, 2010.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "The Granite Girl"

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  • A former member wrote: the oak and the rock... what nature does to us, what dazzling imagery, strikingly ironic against the cold granite.... without give " i feel was dripping shame as you dribbled out of me your baritone chest heaving against my beansprout back. and this seed growing in me..." or perhaps, giving too much? sometimes wood will turn to stone.... like medusa, perhaps..... is there a disagreeable verb there? I feel was....? Just wondering. Love the analogies the interspersed imagery and the conceptual irony.... who bends in the wind here?

  • A former member wrote: such a unique clever and at points witty way of phrasing. you have a seemingly natural way with imagery/metaphor.. lady Nuri..it's a pleasure to read you again :)

  • A former member wrote: a thing of beauty.all the words sublimely put

  • A former member wrote: completely destroying ending..... i marvel at the imagery and the derisive, deciduous tone and life.altering events that built this poetic. so many nearly parable'd strophes.....you have a powerful voice; unique and clearcutting. beauty~

  • Ophelia On Tuesday, August 31, 2010, Ophelia (221)By person wrote:

    sadly beautiful

  • A former member wrote: What do I even say to this, miss nuri... There are so many clever lines here that I am envious of; that I wish I had written. In particular, "you write of dandelions snagged in the babbling brook hair of girls with violent dreams" I am blown away by your exquisite imageries. The ending is perfect and seemingly clicks into place. You have a lovely soul.

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