Untitled poem
Ah, the lies her hands told,
Whispering down silken traces.
Tangled muscle knots flowed,
Unraveled by haptic graces.
Goddess touching me real—
But only in my touch-struck eyes.
So I must ignore feel,
And hands-on apostasize*.
*The way I've always said and spelled apostatize.
Posted by Chad Lundgren on Friday, July 26, 2002 (Link)
Posted by Roslee Friday, July 26, 2002 at 11:00 PM
My, oh my! I really like this poem! It elicited a definite response. I enjoyed your use of words new to me....haptic. I will have to remember that one. I do a lot of haptic interventions here at work. Does this mean that I am a haptic person?? Another vaiation on "touchy-feely" but sounding more mysterious? I will try to compose a verse or haiku during the lulls tonight at work. I cannot promise that I can do metered/rhymed stuff, but free-verse & haiku I can do. By the way, I gain a lot of amusement and pleasure from these postings and the responses/postings/changes I see later. See you in the funny papers, haiku-boy!
