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That Nagging Feeling. (Poem)

That Nagging Feeling. (Poem)

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Poetry for me… It’s been a life saver. There was a point in my life when I simply could not use my voice – my pen became my voice and my pad became my outlet. Poetry became my lesbian lover, my mother, my god, my salvation, and my friend.

So every once-in-a-while I like to express my gratitude to Madam Poesy. Perhaps in this piece, Poetry is the “she” and I as the narrator (having experienced writers block) is wondering if my lover misses me.

This piece can be read in a myriad of ways – double entendre is a close friend ;)

 

That Nagging Feeling.

 

I love her so much
it hurts the back of my
eyelids when I think
about her. The old souls
of my feet feel
punished. I’ve walked eternities
on coals of scalding temptations,
of knuckle-rapped buttocks that smell
of cinnamon-colored jasper.

 

I’ve walked them all.

 

I’ve succumbed. I was wrapped
up in leopard skins of precise enchantment,
up in clouds of sanctified orgasm,
up in a throbbing so melancholy
it nearly broke my brain. I wear this pain
like a concussive migraine
pounding sorrow-songs,
crucial crucifications of the heart. Perhaps

 

we reminisce upon an old St.
Louis Blues? I wonder
if she misses me.

 

 

Copyright © 2011 Jacquii Cooke

 

And just for the heck of it…
Here’s Ms. Bessie Smith singing St. Louis Blues (circa 1929)


More About That Nagging Feeling.

This poem is a testimony that we’ve all experience ==> First love, the feeling so emotionally intense, so emotionally gripping, so emotionally OWNING, then perhaps things aren’t working out as fabulously romantical as we know via the ol’ prince charming tales, and then curtains. It’s over. And maybe there’s the lingering, nagging feeling of loose ends not quite having been tidied up; You feel as if you need closure ((read: perhaps we reminisce upon an old St. Louis Blues?))

And that’s what this piece is about.

It’s about me moving on and perhaps hoping that a love I once inspired, may perchance happen again, as I feel I’m a wholer person now than when I WAS actually, literally wrapped up in sanctified orgasm…. Perhaps the “nagging feeling” is “she” as alluded to in the last line and “she” is only I…?

Jacquii Cooke is a Black American Poet from Oak Ridge, Tennessee. Her writings have been featured in both online & print venues. More of her writing may be found at JPiC Forum For Writers, an online Community where open-minded writers of all backgrounds can freely share in the joy of creating literature. Jacquii’s JPiC profile can be found at MsJacquiiC.

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