Friday, September 25, 2009

Writing Free

I've not been able to concentrate well this week, though I'm writing a lot. So blog posts have not been top of the list. But you know me. Can't let more than a few days pass without writing something here. So, I thought I'd post one of Randy Lagana's photos and just free write from it. I love this photo. A lot. Hey! How about you join in and free write something in the comments! Come on, don't be scared.

You sit, a symbol of patience, tethered
bound, unbound, boundless
coils coiled around, over, under
shadows reveal more than light
from the back of your heart
while beneath you, grain runs
into the darkness where you
stare and wait, bring yourself
to where you now sit, waiting
for the moon to come
the rest of life to reveal itself
binding you to this world


Craig Sorensen said...

Shoe lace binding
An eyelet.

Erobintica said...

:-) Thanks Craig! I thought you might come through with something.

'tis a day for poetry - I'm going to the Poets House Grand Opening in NYC today!

Anonymous said...

Hey, Robin,

Thanks for giving me something to do with my sleepless night....--Linda


I imagine I’m standing behind the man behind the camera and focus my gaze at the long rope looped loosely many times around the subject’s naked body. The fibrous cable divides the canvas of his tattooed back like a Picasso abstract—distorted but whole in its beauty and truth—its frayed beginning and ending collected neatly to the left of his seated pose.

The inked and eye-lashed orb at the nape of his neck seems to mock everyone he leaves behind. The quarter moon curve of a tatted nose dips darkly out of sight at the tip of his shoulder to the front—to where?

A taut mouth is formed from three twisted cables intersecting—the maddening male smile of conceited conquest conveyed as a slash across his thick waist. The coiled woven loop continues; droops to frame an ass-cheeked chin—soft, and dimpled, and freshly-shaven.

And the lines of an unknown Asian symbol jewel his upper thigh like a pirate’s earring—“left is right and right is wrong” pops in suddenly and plays to the quiet sight.

I don’t need him to get up and turn around to know it’s you. I don’t need to see the real blue-violet eyes, or the crooked, wicked smile I know will bring me to my knees again; the soft lips below the aquiline nose that I know will fit perfectly as a pair below my left ear, just close enough to get caught up in my hair when you reach for me and tell me…what? What husky, lust-filled lines will you whisper to bind me this time?

As always, you are everywhere, and nowhere, this time appearing in a blog photo that barked a carnival solicitation that I couldn’t resist: “What do you see, little girl? What do you feel? Come over here and tell me. Don’t be afraid. Remember, it’s only make-believe.”

Erobintica said...

Oh my - that was lovely. Linda, I've missed your writing. Thank you!