Repair Your Mind ... 'when the last dormouse has been flung from the last high window' by RICHARD ZOLA Read More Poetry ... Honey Kissed by PEGGY MEEKS-KING
02.02:015
RICHARD ZOLA
when the last dormouse has been flung from the last high window


a branch:
and the claws of the bird
will loosen
when that woman reaches the fountain
when her shadow
darkens the water
before she sits to read
when i've twisted your bracelet
another 5 times
when the white blind
in that window is unrolled
when that yellow door opens
when your painted mouth
next says perpetual
when the infant near the kiosk wakes
when the tall man
and the small man
reach the gate
or at the opening of the octopus eye
oh the branch is empty
         
Richard Zola paints the power of imagination through interesting structure. The poem defines a branch and the second line continues from the title which subliminally precedes "and"; upon concluding the definition, we learn none of it exists - the 'branch is empty' - and closure reopens the poem to a second reading. How ican an empty branch include all this? The apparent "sentence" structure is without punctuation: through imagination, what is not on the branch remains perpetual as does the "painted mouth" and other objects in the poem are imagined (and, as a poem, imagined perpetually).

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02.02:015
PEGGY MEEKS-KING
Honey Kissed

He had been with many lovers;
he whispered to me that it
was so. He told me about each and every one,
making me
hot with desire as if I were him
and could have sex with all
these woman, making them go over the
edge of Eden, as he did.
I did not care and would take my chance that I might not
live up to the many that had ridden him before me,
whose many nipples he had sucked and licked; I knew I just
wanted him in me deeply.
He placed both my hands high up over the door way
and said to me. "Do not move" and so I did not move;
I stood there as I was told.
My ass did move a little with fear (you know how you
get that tiny movement). It's still a movement, a little
shake of my own flesh on my ass, just like cherry jello
in a white bowl for lunch,
just a little bit, just like a little death.
Once this blonde god knew I would obey him, he poured golden
honey on my ass slowly at first, then faster. I felt it dripping
down both my legs and his tongue all over my ass moving
in and out licking and kissing wildly, deeply touching my desire.
I was on
fire.
He licked so deep as
to caress my dark red lips near my pearl-drop.
I dare not let go, I just stood there like a doll in a store
window, that kind you want to buy when you have no green dough.
I loved his honey kisses all over my hot flesh,
and I dare not let go.
I dare not.
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What Richar Zola's branch accomplishes (above poem) Peggy Meeks-King accomplishes by "personalizing" the poem: a discussion between "he" and "me" who, like the branch, exist only as poem. Readers forget the rational fact : pronouns refer to things; so, someone must actually be referred to, else the pronouns are empty, meaningless. Zola plants objects on the branch; Meeks-King objectifies these pronouns and the reader creates with imaginative power (we all have it). To know that poets' objects are not real takes nothing away from a poem. The relationship of reader to text is the relationship of Alice in Wonderland to the Cheshire cat. Text disappears (reality, its branch, remains) and the reader retains the pleasure of having read (the Cheshire Cat's smile). The reader must then ascertain what is real, what is true.

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