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This Bed


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JoelJosol

This bed is different without you. I'm not used
to its silence, inactivity nor to its bed sheets
and pillows over it well-arranged.

My body sinking into it is not the same
as yours sinking into it too. I prefer it to be
creaking, overflowing with sounds, sensual

while the full moon peeks through the curtain,
wondering what we are up to.
I prefer it to be disorderly

when we play love's games, the blanket removed,
exposing our skin to the moon, so that she
may envy us, as she outlines your curves.

I prefer that you fill it with your sound bite
in every corner, in the pillows, in the bed sheet,
with each space locking your scent, your laughter.

Let us fill it with groans
mixing with the embers of passion
heating up as we ignite a brilliant glow.

This bed is different without you.
I am not used to space draped with loneliness.
The blanket is not as warm as you,

from where you would have been
staring at me with the moon in your eyes.

* A. Baez poem about beds and moons made resurrect this poem and made adjustments to it as well. 

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"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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Posted (edited)
Just now, JoelJosol said:

This bed is different without you. I'm not used
to its silence, inactivity nor to its bed sheets
and pillows over it well-arranged.

My body sinking into it is not the same
as yours sinking into it too. I prefer it to be
creaking, overflowing with sounds, sensual

while the full moon peeks through the curtain,
wondering what we are up to.
I prefer it to be disorderly

when we play love's games, the blanket removed,
exposing our skin to the moon, so that she
may envy us, as she outlines your curves.

I prefer that you fill it with your sound bite
in every corner, in the pillows, in the bed sheet,
with each space locking your scent, your laughter.

Let us fill it with groans
mixing with the embers of passion
heating up as we ignite a brilliant glow.

This bed is different without you.
I am not used to space draped with loneliness.
The blanket is not as warm as you,

from where you would have been
staring at me with the moon in your eyes.

* A. Baez poem about beds and moons made resurrect this poem and made adjustments to it as well. 

Well written Joel.  When Sight, Smell, Taste, Hearing, and Touch of a loved one no longer exists, loss will make you  extremely sensitive to this void...your aching heart cries out.

Edited by bob
Re phrased the sentence structure.
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JoelJosol

Thanks bob for sharing the "experience" of the poem.

"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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Joel, I agree with Bob, this one is tight, very well composed. You stay on point, and it does not come across as repetitive even with eight stanzas. I like how you end with the couplet.

Tony

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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JoelJosol

Thanks tony and dr_con. I tried to picture the intimacy versus the loss without going overboard or overdramatizing the sexual part. Just sensual, appealing to the senses.

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"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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A. Baez

Joel, wow! This is really powerful. It has a masterful air, reminding me of Neruda in its subject matter and tone along with its sensibility that I think of as being distinctly "Latin."  What is that sensibility? Perhaps I might say an unabashed emotional, sentimental expression delivered in a direct way, anchored in physical details, and yes, in the context of a love poem, that careful balance that I think you hit so well between the sensual and the sexual.

This poem evokes the particular feeling it describes so well--much better than various other works I've seen on the same theme. (I guess I'm thinking mainly of songs. Oddly, coincidentally, I just happened to be thinking this afternoon of The Police's "The Bed's Too Big Without You," whose title is so similar to your poem's refrain.) There are so many cherishable lines to be found here. I love "I prefer it to be disorderly" and the moon peeking through the curtain, wondering what the partners are up to, and envying them as she outlines the lady's curves--such a great image! And "space draped with loneliness" is lovely--in a different way! I also love the repetition of "This bed is different without you," which comes at just the right place. Such a strong ending too--an image as vivid as it is, alas, imaginary by the time the narrator speaks through this poem. 

This piece definitely puts me in the mood for love! And that is actually no small feat. 😉

I was wondering what you meant by the "sound bite," though, and I felt that the groans mixing with the embers of passion was strange because it combines something actual with something metaphorical--I would have preferred both these elements to be actual.

In any case, I'm thrilled that my moon poem prompted you to resurrect this. It is so fun to have poetic "conversations" of this sort, and by coincidence, Tony was also recently prompted by my moon poem to show me an old (very different!) poem of his sharing this same element!

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JoelJosol

A. Baez, thanks for your generous feedback. I did read Neruda now that you reminded me of him. 

Also, thanks for the catch on combining physical with metaphorical. I might revisit that. The "sound bite" is a modern term in broadcast. 

Yes, your moon poem inspired me to bring this up. Thanks.

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"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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A. Baez

I know the meaning of sound bite, I just couldn't figure out why you used it in the context you did. Wouldn't the female lover have delivered much, much more in these scenes than a mere sound bite? I'm imagining a lusty bite in the arm might be more on her order.

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JoelJosol

Thanks for the feedback. I did not realize the term sounded neutral and lessens the total impact.  

"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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A. Baez

Yes, I've always thought "sound bite" carried a negative connotation as a deprecating term to describe when the media tries to turn words that are nuanced and complex into an extremely curtailed and oversimplified tiny clip, to try to cater to the public's perceived lack of time, attention span, and interest in detail.

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  • 2 weeks later...
David W. Parsley

Hi Joel, this one "worked" on me, too!  I am not fully convinced that "sound bite" is out of place completely, but it has not been brought off to best advantage yet.  By telling us that it occurred in all the corners, we got a briefly delivered notion of the level of activity that could be expected when the bed is fully occupied.  Which is a good and sensual (yow!) and sensuous (I could feel the smooth coolness of the sheets!) thing.  But I definitely think that you and A. Baez are onto something that isn't quite complete.  This poem is good enough to be worth a little reworking.  It does have whiff of Neruda to it.  This, too, is a very good thing.

Thanks (I think),
- David

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  • 1 month later...
JoelJosol

Hi David,

Thanks for the feedback too. I also read Neruda, planning to buy one of his books soon. I am still looking for time to  work on how to present the impression of sound I wish to project. 

I am glad to read your hospital procedure went fine.

"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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