Monday, December 31, 2007

Lady Muhammad

sleeping old man
old man's nature
to sleep
wish to go
toe to toe
in your dreams
furthest you’ll go
she’s winning
another match
right now
coiled
in bed
feet
wrapped around
her lover’s head

© copyright Tia L. Clarke 2007

4 comments:

Obie Quiet said...

You see, love, what this very poem claims or asserts, is contradicted. You fail to demonstrate superior tenacity. Here the young is wilted and without force. This does seemed aimed at art though. The intention, your aspirations, feels noble and correct. And to conclude. Art, artist, has to be honest. Beauty is TRUTH. You are not honest here, concerning your subject. It is, though playful, just another attempt at put down. With what's intended to last until or even beyond the end of the language you're writing in, your beauty and aim must be TRUTH. Your work is without integrity otherwise. Young or old, as herein compared, might mean little or nothing when occult or supernatural forces are called upon by young or old. Such forces are what we both must harness. BE HONEST. ALWAYS. SEE WHERE THAT LEADS TO, WHERE THAT LEADS YOU. It will not lead you astray, I guarantee you that.

Obie Quiet said...

Amazing title! "Lady Muhammad," even without quite knowing all that it signifies, how arresting, how interesting.

Obie Quiet said...

Forgive me if the way I address you and these issues is terrible. I confess, this going to the edge of, with and in language, leaves me shaking, makes me timid also. You can shut me off, I can shut up if what I say, how I say it, makes you uncomfortable and instead read two or three thousand book as I have, to arrive at what I have or to come to your own conclusions. I don't know though if you have time. My attempt is to miraculous, ripen the time. This is what having someone to make love to, oftentimes is relied upon to accomplishes.

You need EXPOSURE to the ARTS. You are starving for such exposure, without accepting or knowing it. The pool you draw from is so very SHALLOW.

Esquire of the mountain said...

this for me is a very interesting poem..title made me think..but then there is only one muhammad ali i suppose and then the feet around her(old) lovers head visual..hmmm very graphic..