deepundergroundpoetry.com
Incubus-Succubus
What do you do afterwards? Light up on
A cigarette and start a discussion
On the meaning of life, as in French films?
No. Their fantasies of the symbiosis
Of carnal desire and rational thought
Do hardly square with those philosophers
From Hobbes and Locke then Kant and Hegel, not
Forgetting Newton who all probably
Died virgins. Even the maverick Nietzsche
Abstained after a youthful dose of the pox.
A cynic may say film makers believed
Their own chat up lines that a satisfied
Libido stimulates the inquiring mind.
And, of course, French philosopher were less
Inhibited than the Anglo-Germanic.
Let me disabuse you of this folk myth.
A cig. and vapid ontological
Musings just compensate for bad sex.
When it all goes well, we turn into demons
And the more satisfying the climax
The more weirdly devilish we become.
Once I awoke inside her while she slept
I was gratified and pleased- for her- to see
Undeniable marks of perfect orgasm.
Pores opened and her firm flesh loosened
Like a living, breathing mature Stilton.
Suddenly my lady, so much closer
By then to menopause than puberty,
Transformed into the uniformed school girl
She had described in her childhood stories.
Panic. Then fear. Were my post-sex brain cells
Leaking discrimination? Then I recalled
An encounter with a Spanish Carmen
Who transmuted into her full blood Inca
Grandmother in similar conditions.
What if she saw me in much the same way?
I remembered on another occasion
A look of bemused horror in her eyes
When they opened so shortly after mine.
I'd assumed it was in disappointment
That I was not the lover of her dream.
Perhaps instead she saw Jack the Ripper,
The Boston Strangler or even Ghenghis Khan.
I withdrew gently and lay beside her,
Dreaming of our normal life; our knowing
Of each other's every mood and desire;
How we began each other sentences;
In intimacy, responsive harmony
At every point to the nano second.
If I saw a terrifying stranger
How would she see me on awakening?
So irreplaceable. I had to avoid
A seizure on her perceiving that I was
Her incubus. First my affirmation
That I was already to her converted
As my own and dearly loved succubus.
(my next submission- The Intruder- is a commentary on this)
A cigarette and start a discussion
On the meaning of life, as in French films?
No. Their fantasies of the symbiosis
Of carnal desire and rational thought
Do hardly square with those philosophers
From Hobbes and Locke then Kant and Hegel, not
Forgetting Newton who all probably
Died virgins. Even the maverick Nietzsche
Abstained after a youthful dose of the pox.
A cynic may say film makers believed
Their own chat up lines that a satisfied
Libido stimulates the inquiring mind.
And, of course, French philosopher were less
Inhibited than the Anglo-Germanic.
Let me disabuse you of this folk myth.
A cig. and vapid ontological
Musings just compensate for bad sex.
When it all goes well, we turn into demons
And the more satisfying the climax
The more weirdly devilish we become.
Once I awoke inside her while she slept
I was gratified and pleased- for her- to see
Undeniable marks of perfect orgasm.
Pores opened and her firm flesh loosened
Like a living, breathing mature Stilton.
Suddenly my lady, so much closer
By then to menopause than puberty,
Transformed into the uniformed school girl
She had described in her childhood stories.
Panic. Then fear. Were my post-sex brain cells
Leaking discrimination? Then I recalled
An encounter with a Spanish Carmen
Who transmuted into her full blood Inca
Grandmother in similar conditions.
What if she saw me in much the same way?
I remembered on another occasion
A look of bemused horror in her eyes
When they opened so shortly after mine.
I'd assumed it was in disappointment
That I was not the lover of her dream.
Perhaps instead she saw Jack the Ripper,
The Boston Strangler or even Ghenghis Khan.
I withdrew gently and lay beside her,
Dreaming of our normal life; our knowing
Of each other's every mood and desire;
How we began each other sentences;
In intimacy, responsive harmony
At every point to the nano second.
If I saw a terrifying stranger
How would she see me on awakening?
So irreplaceable. I had to avoid
A seizure on her perceiving that I was
Her incubus. First my affirmation
That I was already to her converted
As my own and dearly loved succubus.
(my next submission- The Intruder- is a commentary on this)
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