Sunday, December 9, 2012

Cartography

Lovely read by R.A.D. Stainforth...one of his best...

These words fall hot from the atmosphere, 
burn through the page like meteors,
quietly shuffle among themselves,
visually represent the area between,
highlight intersections
with a lipstick smudge or tear ―
because X always marks the spot.
Read my willing palm, 
see the rhythms and regularities
span natural contours.
We come together,
fit curved like a globe, 
some kind of oracle,
where continents and seas
connect singular dots,
chart the attraction,
fold hips, point scale,
like a map.

tk/December 2012

43 comments:

  1. ,,, navigating this map could be a little tricky.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Excellent. A milestone piece!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you...honored you think so, kind sir...

      Delete
  3. I love this! I never looked at maps with such potential, but will always see them differently now!

    ReplyDelete
  4. I enjoyed reading your poem...what a flow

    ReplyDelete
  5. "You can learn a lot from Lydia!" :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The taaaa-ttooed lady...don't get me started...I'll be singing it for a week...

      Delete
  6. Great words excellently mapped out.

    ReplyDelete
  7. The moods of one person may be poles apart.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Neat poem, stunning topography.

    ReplyDelete
  9. wow- lovely words- especially-
    "We come together,
    fit curved like a globe,"
    Wonderful when that happens.......

    ReplyDelete
  10. Sensual... I especially like the same section as Kathe.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Very nicely woven - a cartographer's dream girl. Reminds me of the Dutch expression: 'Lapeltjes, lapeltjes' [spoons fitting together].

    ReplyDelete
  12. I have always been fascinated by maps and love the word cartography. a lovely combination, your words, the mapped body.

    ReplyDelete
  13. Hmm, I've never wanted to go to South Africa so bad...lol

    ReplyDelete
  14. Love the prompt, Tess...very inspiring.

    Your take on it is wonderful...I love this:

    "Read my willing palm,
    see the rhythms and regularities
    span natural contours."

    Very sensual beautiful piece.

    ReplyDelete
  15. that's hot. just like the equator.

    ReplyDelete
  16. Oh lovely stuff Tess - very sensual.

    Anna :o]

    ReplyDelete
  17. NUMBER 32

    To be a map
    is sexy not,
    the map a trap
    if awe you’ve got.

    ReplyDelete
  18. A truly elegant affair! A must read again...

    ReplyDelete
  19. I love the last three lines, but the whole is beautiful.

    ReplyDelete
  20. A lady to rule the world daintily described. Nicely Tess!

    Hank

    ReplyDelete
  21. Gotta love navigating the human form. Loved this.
    Hugs
    SueAnn

    ReplyDelete
  22. A sizzling map of love here Tess...X always marks the spot indeed! :-)

    ReplyDelete
  23. Certainly on the right path with this one.......!

    ReplyDelete
  24. Lovely!
    "We come together,
    fit curved like a globe"
    Awww.. how nice!

    ReplyDelete
  25. ..for sure i will never get lost... what a fond exploration...

    smiles..

    ReplyDelete
  26. Such a delightful sail through your vision today!

    ReplyDelete
  27. If the space wasn't already taken, I'd love that tattoo.

    Great poem - excellent rhythm, and I like the way it wanders about. Most poems sort of drive on to one point, but this hits many.

    As always, R.A.D. executes brilliantly. I love the way he sounds almost angry at the end.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, brilliant. I love how he builds at the end with a breathless kind of urgency.

      Delete
  28. I'll never think of maps of just pieces of paper to fold up and shove in my glove compartment again! What a sensual piece, and the reading was brilliant!

    ReplyDelete
  29. Styarting to wish i had studied cartography.

    ReplyDelete
  30. Thank you for taking the time to read, and leave such encouraging comments. You're the best, dear peeps...

    ReplyDelete

Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence.
― O. Henry (and me)