A Sextina by Witchway
The lovely witchway wrote an amazing 'sextina' (a sexy sestina) using the title of my LJ here, "Fingerpaintings of the Insane*." It was written as a Spike/Xander poem from Spike. But I misread it or just interpreted it differently as I immediately thought of Doctor/Master (of course it could've been because I'm obsessed & filter everything through D/M *g*.) Anyway, I am so honored that she did this for me. And on top of that, I absolutely love it. It's one of the most evocative poems I've read. So I'm presenting it here for my flist to read & enjoy.
* BTW, the title of my journal comes from a song by Acid Bath.
Untitled
Sun rises, deadly, with burning fingers.
Below, the madman with poems and paintings
Hides. Does the dashing knight of
The hot holy sun join him in the
Darkness? No, these are insane
Rantings of a poet. Lovers, insane,
Find burning brains and trembling fingers
Nothing new. Mad visions of the
Warm lover (the imagination paints
Him strong and hungry,) visions of
His touch, his gaze, his promises of
More..... he is not here. Insane
And lurid daydreams gently paint him
Tender, curious, bold, with fingers
Slow and thorough. And if the
Thoughts make this body hard, the
Darkness covers evidence of
My own hands, my voice, my fingers
Each remembering my dream. Insane
To think I could have more. I've painted
Myself a sunlit-love. But paintings,
Poems, fantasies disolve in sun. The
Truth: I'm naked, alone, insane.
Darkness alone covers my body,
my face
my dreams
my fears of
The deadly sun with burning fingers.
* BTW, the title of my journal comes from a song by Acid Bath.
Untitled
Sun rises, deadly, with burning fingers.
Below, the madman with poems and paintings
Hides. Does the dashing knight of
The hot holy sun join him in the
Darkness? No, these are insane
Rantings of a poet. Lovers, insane,
Find burning brains and trembling fingers
Nothing new. Mad visions of the
Warm lover (the imagination paints
Him strong and hungry,) visions of
His touch, his gaze, his promises of
More..... he is not here. Insane
And lurid daydreams gently paint him
Tender, curious, bold, with fingers
Slow and thorough. And if the
Thoughts make this body hard, the
Darkness covers evidence of
My own hands, my voice, my fingers
Each remembering my dream. Insane
To think I could have more. I've painted
Myself a sunlit-love. But paintings,
Poems, fantasies disolve in sun. The
Truth: I'm naked, alone, insane.
Darkness alone covers my body,
my face
my dreams
my fears of
The deadly sun with burning fingers.