Thursday, November 22

An old poem

I wrote this YEARS ago, but came across it and thought I'd toss it on the blog...

I want to kiss you so bad, my teeth hurt.
But that's all love is, really:
A series of fillings and extractions
And fear of greater pain to come.

I want to kiss you so bad, my teeth hurt.
But I know that when I come to you,
Part of me must be made numb,
So that you, my dear,
May bring your kiss as a healing art,
And not a tender torture.

I want to kiss you so bad, my teeth hurt.
Yet painfully, despite my pain,
I'll put off the appointment for as long as possible.

bg all rights reserved. Painting above is "Lovers" by Magritte.


  1. Anonymous7:24 PM

    That's very cool, 'Gal. It has a tactile reality which I strive for in my writing, a sort of sensorial immediacy which is excruciatingly transporting.

    Thanks for sharing ;)

  2. Ouch! You know, if love hurts like the dentist, then maybe you are not doing it right. I'm just saying...

    Great poem, though! Interesting, and conveys a feeling.

  3. "My painting is visible images which conceal nothing; they evoke mystery and, indeed, when one sees one of my pictures, one asks oneself this simple question 'What does that mean'? It does not mean anything, because mystery means nothing either, it is unknowable." René Magritte

    An A-Z of surrealism, by Phil Daoust

    W is for war. Without the first world war, surrealism might not have existed; without the second it might not have withered. The trenches gave birth to dada, anti-art for a society that did not deserve beauty. After dada faded away, many of the malcontents resurfaced as surrealists. Among them was Ernst, who had written: "On 1 August 1914 Max Ernst died. He was resurrected on 11 November 1918 as a young man who aspired to find the myths of his time."

    Two decades later the rise of fascism convinced many surrealists that political engagement (or self-preservation) was more important than artistic experimentation.

  4. Anonymous9:46 PM

    I flinched reading this. Then I sat rubbing my jaw to make the pain go away.

    The sign of good poetry, to me, is to ellicit a viceral reaction. Well done.

  5. Anonymous10:52 PM

    I too have experienced the pain of wanting to kiss someone, but never in the teeth :)

    Somebody had to say it...

  6. Anonymous6:48 AM

    Nice poem.I like the way you repeat the first line of each stanza. It read a bit like a sonnet.

    However, it's theme made me think of of a song called "Pulling Teeth" by the band Green Day/ It also equated love with dentistry, but your verse was not quite as violent.

  7. 've had that feeling. i like the poem. it brings it back!

  8. Love hurts when you don't brush regularly.



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