Prayer to my back

Mysterious

blind backside

I know your

sigh

pulled contrapuntally

thrummed Cajun washboard

I

lie against

your chaise lounge

vertebral

flotation device

sometime libidinal mooring

crustaceous

shell over

creamy craving center.

Mend

oh mend

your off-kilter spring

anneal

heal, resume

our sacral dance.

---

Comments

[susurra]

Yowsa!

[leslee]

Yeah, not very subtle, eh?

[Dave]

Hey, this is great! You know I'm a sucker for anything resembling a spell. (I hope it worked.)

There's so much labored, unnecessary and otherwise bad poetry on the Internet. It's always such a nice surprise to come here and find one of your poems, crisp and clear like a fine autumn day. I hope you'll send us one for qarrtsiluni soon.

[leslee]

Thanks, Dave, I really appreciate that. Most of the time I worry that I'm embarrassing myself with bad poetry here. I don't have a lot of perspective on it.

[ernesto Priego]

I think it is subtle. I like the fact you keep trying your hand at hay(na)ku! It's such a 'new form' that all poems written in this way are, in my view, 'experimental'. The 'Babaylan' would be proud: a hay(na)ku as a prayer, written by a poet turned priestess and healer. And you may know I'm a fan of poetry written inspired by some form of "body ache".

If poetry does not heal, what does it do?

[leslee]

Thank you, Ernesto. It's your hay(na)ku that inspired me. And it is fun to work with - it pushes things in interesting directions.

Yes, poetry is healing. I hope you're healing well, too.