THE BELL JAR
Friday, June 14, 2013
Saturday, June 8, 2013
A WOMAN'S LUST (The carnival was over......) by John Lars Zwerenz
The carnival was over......
She read The Bell Jar and threw it away.
Her lust was more fervent than any man's......
(How few women say......)
She was imprisoned by his amorous bands,
By his handsome face, his body and his hands
While roving amid the vines, the clover.......
Yet her pride was such
That she poised like a statue when he loved her........
She turned away with every touch,
Pretending to admire
Her reflection in the pool........
While her heart was all afire...
So many women fake with a cool
Still repose
While their passion exceeds every blush, every rose.....
Like most of her sex she is constant
In her appetites.......
Yet she hides from her countenance her licentious fire,
Though she secretly in an instant
Becomes all aflame with carnal desire,
Which try as she might to conceal, her bosom betrays this internal heat......
Which she tries to hide with a lie or a sheet....
Then beyond her, her longing is revealed
When the ardor in her eyes to his does meet......
In the violence of her inner fury she attempts to turn away,
But her face cannot help but betray
An ecstasy so profound, so coveted, so intensely sweet..........
Yet her pride does not yield
To admit that these heights are where she goes
In summer's heat or winter's snows,
To satisfy her lusts complete.
And only the night and heaven knows
The impossibility of this feat...............
~ John Lars Zwerenz
She read The Bell Jar and threw it away.
Her lust was more fervent than any man's......
(How few women say......)
She was imprisoned by his amorous bands,
By his handsome face, his body and his hands
While roving amid the vines, the clover.......
Yet her pride was such
That she poised like a statue when he loved her........
She turned away with every touch,
Pretending to admire
Her reflection in the pool........
While her heart was all afire...
So many women fake with a cool
Still repose
While their passion exceeds every blush, every rose.....
Like most of her sex she is constant
In her appetites.......
Yet she hides from her countenance her licentious fire,
Though she secretly in an instant
Becomes all aflame with carnal desire,
Which try as she might to conceal, her bosom betrays this internal heat......
Which she tries to hide with a lie or a sheet....
Then beyond her, her longing is revealed
When the ardor in her eyes to his does meet......
In the violence of her inner fury she attempts to turn away,
But her face cannot help but betray
An ecstasy so profound, so coveted, so intensely sweet..........
Yet her pride does not yield
To admit that these heights are where she goes
In summer's heat or winter's snows,
To satisfy her lusts complete.
And only the night and heaven knows
The impossibility of this feat...............
~ John Lars Zwerenz
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