915 Writing Poems With No Clothes On 6-22-2020

need be writ-
stripped of all
costumes and customs
designed to protect them
from lifes inclement elements.
If it’s hot,
let the poem sweat.
It shivers.
If it sings of breasts,
let them be huge, round and soft…
full of mothers milk-
enough to suckle-septuplets…
Squeeze them,
of course!
But not into some
Let them rest,
Right There!
Grand in all their glory
as their Maker made them!

this applies to poets:
sits at his desk,
conjuring Tamar,
as Una,
beside him,
fondles more than just his themes;
never felt it
to toss aside
her bridal-white-dress
to write of “wild nights”.

Damn constraints!
any forced-formulaic-expectations!
For a corset and a bussle
crafted a body
much lauded as “A Beauty”
but was a lie!

forgive this old-man-word-smith,
if you ring my bell,
on an unannounced visit
and I fling my door
wide open,
wearing just
silver-chest and gray-belly
and a smiling growl
inviting you to
for a “Frosty-Flying-Fuzzy-Navel”
if it’s hot July
(and not to early-afternoon for you…)
a hot Chai-Spice-Tea
with two fingers of rum
on a freezing late February day…
(But why the Hell are you out in it, anyway?!)
don’t you dare hint
I re-robe myself
to ease your embarassed discomfort.
Just drink up
leave me be!

About Ken Greenman

Married and Happy. Retired and busy. Living in NC. 71 and counting. December 12, 2020 and it's 72! ... I would love some written comments, critiques, adulation or kind suggestions.... If you have the time and or inclination, please feel free! Not in fear but by faith. We will see. See you later! If you ever want to talk for real, email me and I will send you my cell number.... I am enjoying this!
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