Lines from the Sensual Side of Life
POEMOGRAPHY Steve Garrett
First Impression 2013 Copyright Steve Garrett 2013
Steve Garrett has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as Author of this Work.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without permission in writing from the Author.
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CONTENTS A LOVE OF VEGETABLES Five A Day
SHORTS Out On a Limb
Raising The Dead
One Night Stand
THE REST Trojan Woman
Who Do I Love?
Silence is Golden
Match of the Night
For Ms T.
Just Do It!
A LOVE OF VEGETABLES
Five A Day
She grasps your ripe thickness and gently pulls you out. Relishing your length and depth of colour, she puts you in her mouth and ever so gently bites. The firm flesh at first resists then gives way with a spurt of flavour. She swallows, hungrily, loving each bite.
C Love I love your bulbousness, your swollen bottom full of fragility, firmness, and secret mystery. The smooth whiteness of your curvaceousness entrances me. Tears of affection well up as I gently split you open. How can I live without you now? You are under my skin. Your delicate strength, and heavenâ€™s scent, stay with me all day.
A Fruit? I am caught, amazed by your incredible redness spread open in front of me. Fleshy and delicate, juices glistening, eager to be imbibed by my moistened lips as they push forward in urgent expectation. Your wetness is astonishing. Where could so much fluid come from? Such ripeness incredibly contained within your taut skin. Ready to burst out at the moment of opening, with a sudden flood that I drink in until satiated.
No Iceberg Your head goes straight to mine. My kissful lips graze tenderly, and gentle bites release your delicate succulence. I follow my tender tongue as your folds within folds part softly to let me through to your very core.
Heart Choked Holding you gently but firmly Sensng your shy compliance I undress you slowly, to expose your ripe and inviting flesh, so tender and sensual. I continue to remove your gentle protections full of wonder at what is revealed cradled there when I push aside your final faint resistance. Nestling, moist and succulent, unspeakably soft and yielding, truly this is the hidden heart of you, the most intimate part of you, aching to meet my mouth and dissolve into me.
A Stand It seemed to come from nowhere. Now standing upright with a fragile firmness. Almost absurdly proud of itself and replete with resolve. A sap filled stem tipped with velvet gentleness, pushing quickly and insistently to bring new life into the world. A joy filled force for renewal and reâ€“incarnation.
Out on a Limb A stiff branch quivers. Blossom showers over you. Fragrance fills the air.
Raising the Dead You slide in my soul, and put your flesh on my bones which stand up and dance.
Deep Feeling The cry from your cave calls my lion-heart to come roaring inside you.
Fertile Ground You make love to me. The gentle rain of your touch makes my desert bloom. A warm sun rises, illuminating everything.
Recollections The scent on my fingers continues to linger evoking sweet recollections of your thighs and your sighs.
Hand Dancing Your hand dances while a pink tongue-tip peeks from both pairs of your parted lips.
One Night Stand Rise and shine. Ebb and flow. Give and take. Come â€Ś and go.
A Promise This is my promise. I wonâ€™t f a l l in love with you. I will stand in love!
Trojan Woman I learned about battlements at an early age. When the time came, I built my castle on a hilltop, with a drawbridge for very special occasions; a portcullis to block unknown arrivals; a catapult to eject badly behaved guests; and a secret escape tunnel. Timing is everything in loveâ€™s inexplicable encounters. When you came knocking, a Trojan woman full of grace and fragrance offering irresistible gifts, one look was all it took. I dismantled my defences, wide opened all doors and gladly surrendered my solitude. Maintenance plans were abandoned and stones from fallen walls used for a tall tower where we made love and planned journeys to distantly spied horizons.
First Loves Eros is dancing in the snow-tinselled trees today. Beckoning my attention, she pours liquid gold of winter sun and invites me to sip and surrender to a deep remembering. My first loves were earth and sky and despite my betrayals, they still wait naked for me with passion and perfection.
Who Do I Love? The bad one; the mad one; the sometimes can be sad one. The smart one; the sharp one; the loves-it-from-the-start one. The kind one; the mined one; the beautiful-behind one. The real one; the heals one; the likes-to-cop-a-feel one. The strong one; the ‘wrong’ one; the knows-where-she-belongs one. Not ... The good one; the ‘would’ one; the doing-what-she-should one.
Silence is Golden I long to wrap your she-cret softness around the firm fact of my feelings. Lost for words, our mouths otherwise engaged, (for a change), tongues hungry, arms everywhere, and no holds barred in a synchronicity of sensations.
Match of the Night Let’s play. I promise a level field. You can kick off, dribble around me as much as you want. I‘ll only offer token resistance and you’ll always be on-side. You’re free to try any kicks you like (by mutual agreement). There are no other rules, and no penalties. Handball is fully permitted. My tackle will be friendly, and if I take a dive it’ll only be to keep the game exciting for both of us. Put the ball in my net as often as you like - I’ll always let you through.
But don’t let me score too soon. Then the game will have to stop for rest and refreshments, and all that gets blown is the final whistle.
Aftermath I woke with honeysuckle thoughts trailing over the trellis of my shadowy consciousness, and arms aching to hold you. Now, with that pain relieved, sweetness remains and memories of you infuse me. I long to contain you and be contained. To kiss and caress you, succour you and set you free.
Simple As Deciding Inviting Colliding Not hiding Sliding Gliding Rough riding Providing Delight in Delighting Not fighting Feel right in All night in
Green Fingers I plant myself deep in your dark garden over and over. Minutes are meaningless as the seasons of our senses roll on with their own mystical rhythm under loveâ€™s relentless caress, until heaven meets earth in a fantastic flowering.
On Safari I yearn to travel deep into your jungle, and visit places no man has seen. Find shameless blooms to seduce me with their ectastic openings in clearings where I can take rest and bask in the soul warming sun. Discover new life forms in hidden crevices, and revel in the calls of wild birds as they take flight in you. Burrow deep into your undergrowth, find caves full of precious stones in need of polishing, and wait patiently for even the shyest creatures to come out. Then, pushing my way to your hidden spring, Iâ€™ll drink my fill, entwined by orchids, before I finally emerge
smiling and tongue tied.
Main Course I am eating you with my eyes. The starter is your plump mouth, swollen lips softy opening to reveal a pink slipperiness as your tongue darts and hides behind your smile. Suddenly I realise you are reading my mind. I give you my hand and wordlessly we head bed-wards, to make a proper meal of it.
For Ms T. I wanted to dive from the sky with you feeling light as dandelion down, full of faith in a shared future and sure that the wind would carry us to exceptional destinations. Knowing that if gravity pulled us earthwards, weâ€™d hit the ground together and bounce back exhilarated and eager to fly up again for another lovers leap. But you choose (very sensibly) to keep both feet firmly on the ground.
Shackletonâ€™s Dream Your eyes, burnished in the fire of fearlessness reflected my projections back to me until they came barking at my door like wolves in from the wild. I pacified and recruited them to pull my sled through frozen waves ever closer to the magnetic attraction of my true north pole.
Puppy Love I was a puppy bounding though buttercups (glowing golden in late afternoon sun) to retrieve the stick you tossed with such insouciance. I fetched it to you, tail wagging wildly with fragile pride, but was unable to give it back, trapped in anxious ambivalence between my need to please and the fear of letting go.
Being Prepared Your smile launches a wind blown ship inside me; sails unfurled and ready to head for far flung destinations. There is no map for this journey. Weâ€™ll surrender to time and tides and trust in the sea to feed us, ready for evasive action if icebergs. are encountered
Springing My heart was in your mouth as Iwe entered the unknown, full of tenderness and trepidation. I have weathered many seasons but remain in awe of how my chilled and hidden innerness can thaw under your warming sun, and my scattered specks of suspended life burst into tumescent celebration, take root and push skyward, yielding fruits of indescribable sweetness.
Treasure Hunt I have a heart-on for you wild woman of the world! Tender girl who nestles into the safety of my embrace. Wise woman, who nurtures her secret garden and treads there so carefully. Adventurer who heads for the hills, leading others to share the special treasures buried there.
Unrequited I showed you mine but you wouldn’t show me yours. I dug up words from deep places, polished and arranged them to lay out in front of you. You smiled wanly and walked past. I piled my stall high with the freshest fruit I could find. You picked it over desultorily, and bought elsewhere. I put on my best clothes and sang sentimental songs under your balcony. You gave me a wave (I think) then closed the curtains. I dissected myself in front of you, land abelled my vital organs (with special attention to the heart), but you skipped school that day. I picked fragrant flowers and placed them at your door. You opened your window to let in their scent then left them to wither. I strutted my stuff on the dance floor hoping to catch your eye. But you had left early. Finally it was time to have it out with you, (in a manner of speaking). I took my deepest breath and declared my undiminished desire. You said you liked me well enough, just not in ‘that’ way. a crust that was seized by this starving man . Sometimes nothing is better than something.
Stains Like maps to newly discovered countries the stains of love recall journeys made and secrets revealed. Souvenirs to remind you where you came. Each one a testament to adventure or just an accident. Or both. Some are kept as mementos of a past passion Some hide, forgotten to be rediscovered at inappropriate moments. Some change the course of history. Some even have a town named after them.
Easy Learning to love is not like learning to ride a bike. When you climb on and your centre of gravity slides there is no safe hand to hold you. So many never dare, only stand on the sidelines, cheering or jeering, harbouring and hiding their secret dreams. But, just when you risk falling, a sense of Grace takes over and you realise that: “The only thing to fear... is fear itself.” (Benjamin Franklin said that.) “Ride on, man... Ride on!” (I said that.)
Deep Diving I dive into your smiles (the horizontal and the vertical) and holding my breath, hit bottom. There, oysters wait patiently for their sea-stroked shells to be cunningly cracked and pearls picked.
Snow Leopard A cave-cry of longing escapes, Uncontainable. And caressing, It entwines and binds me. This is a beauty no lens can capture, no mirror can hold. When you, opening, show me your â€Ś whole.
Just Do It Will you dare to dive in? Or just stand chicken-quivering on the side, looking on with longing at the ecstatic entwining in front of you? Just J U M P! Surrender, and you will not sink. Even if the dead weight of doubt ever drags you down, you’ll only have to cry out: an unconditional ‘Yes!’ to be carried up into the light again.
(a.k.a. musician Stainless Steve)
Dedicated to all lovers, and all who have been loved. I hope these smiling celebrations of sensuality will encourage readers to take the time to know, love and celebrate themselves and each other.
‘Steve Garrett's poems are a luscious entwining of food and body, hunger and lust.’
Carole Burns: senior lecturer in creative writing, writer, journalist, and critic.
‘I actually laughed out loud on the train! So good.’ Laurie Penny: journalist, author,
contributing editor at The New Statesman
Published on Nov 25, 2013