I recently made the assertion in my infinite wisdom and exquisitely refined good taste that in general, poly poetry is Vogon poetry.
So, here’s your chance to prove me wrong. Write a poly poem that’s actually good and post it here. I’ll tell you whether I think it’s Vogon Poetry or not. I really will, so if you’ll crumble at your glistening words being dismissed as worthy only of Vogonity, don’t risk it.
Who’s game?
In an attack of conscience, I have to toss out one of my own, I suppose. Feel free to pass judgement on the Vogonity:
Mistress
I know it’s politically incorrect
As a poly woman I should expect
To be an OSO
A Girlfriend
Maybe even a Lover.
But I want the titillation –
An unrealistic expectation
To be little Shock
A Naughtiness
Maybe even your mistress.
© 2004, Noël Lynne Figart
Entries (RSS)
July 18th, 2009 at 8:53 pm
Theory into Practice
When my love told me
she’d never seen a shooting star
I went home
and dreamed
we were standing
under a sky full
a meteor shower
falling so thick
you didn’t even have to pay
attention to notice one.
We didn’t know the
proper way to celebrate
so we knelt on the
sidewalk to receive the
sky’s blessing.
I was there the first time
she kissed him
on the hastily unfolded futon
in the living room of our first apartment.
I nestled myself into the worn smooth
seat of her great grandmother’s rocking chair
and into the smooth worn
green growing trust of open love
two lovers of mine, together,
making a circle complete.
I knew the proper way to celebrate –
I paid rapt attention.
I wasn’t there the first time
she saw a shooting star
though we’d gone looking many times.
She told me the next morning
about how she’d seen it,
sitting on the tent-studded
hill (where I’d fallen
in love with her years before)
getting an astronomy
lesson from him
while I wandered down below
seeking solitude to cure
some temporary grump.
It was the only time I ever felt
I’d lost something
by letting go
the only time I wanted to be
him for a moment.
I was the parent working late
who missed her child’s first word,
knowing it wasn’t really important
and knowing it was.
But it’s good to know
that someone was there.
It’s good to know
they were both paying attention.
July 18th, 2009 at 8:56 pm
Vogon
July 18th, 2009 at 9:42 pm
Here’s one example from a few years ago.
Alone?
Perhaps!
Am I alone? Well Perhaps
The beating hearts of my loves are miles away.
But the sound of their laughter is as clear as though they were here.
There are no hands to touch me, nor can I touch their skin.
Yet the memories of touches past are within easy reach,
And images of touches yet to be given and received come readily to mind.
The characters from my books almost seem like friends,
But they are hollow compared to the beating hearts.
The dog is old and sleeps more than begs,
Yet he is an old friend too.
Am I alone? Well Perhaps
The beating hearts of my loves are miles away.
One visits a mother,
Ones former love has returned to recapture a heart,
Ones found a new love and has become a stranger to this house,
Ones work demands half a continents travel,
Ones work occupies the mind morning to night,
Ones health reduces the warmth of the smile and the bounce of the step,
One on vacation is beyond reach for now.
Am I alone? Well Perhaps
The beating hearts of my loves are miles away.
I miss the steadfast support of one not present,
Yet I know the support remains.
I miss the surprise morning snuggles with one,
Yet I know that the world will once again change.
I miss the smiles of one toward me, and toward another of my loves,
Yet I know that the smiles will be there again with time.
I miss the companionship and challenge that distance prevents,
Yet I know that this distance will be overcome.
I miss the mind connection, both academic and sexual,
Yet I know that the mind will refocus.
I miss the energy and activity,
Yet this too may pass.
I miss the phone calls and emails of connection,
Yet on return new tales will be told and new joys shared.
Am I alone? Well Perhaps.
July 18th, 2009 at 9:47 pm
David, I’m so sorry..
Vogon….
Are we still friends? *sniffle*
July 18th, 2009 at 9:57 pm
Of Course. My friendship does NOT depend on you liking the stuff I write! If it did, I’d have NO friends!! :-)
David
July 19th, 2009 at 12:32 am
This is one I wrote back in April. It was an exercise that blatantly steals from Eavan Boland’s “Against Love Poetry.” And yes, it’s a prose poem, not something with fancy line breaks. But it is a poly poem nonetheless.
Polyamory
After Eavan Boland.
We were married in the summer last year. We have discovered new ways to love each other since then. We have loved different people as well. Why do we speak of our other partners? Because love is exponential. Because monogamy is static. Therefore, every word here is written against love poetry. Love poetry can do no justice to this. Here, instead, is a celebration of what has happened since: There was a time when we believed love was a finite resource. Only when we finally found the courage to reveal our discontent did I suspect infinite capacity. The first test proved our suspicions true. When I say “I love” now, the ending of that sentence is all the more joyful, for it contains more names. I love you (both), I love you (all). We only found loneliness in the rings of monogamy. But we have loved each other more as we have learned to love others. It is to mark the contradictions of our daily love that I have written this. Against love poetry.
July 19th, 2009 at 1:54 am
My poetry efforts are very lacking, I’m better at prose fiction.
go you all.
July 19th, 2009 at 2:53 am
I am happy to report
This poly poem will be short
I choose to love more than one.
There. Look! The poem’s done.
July 19th, 2009 at 6:31 am
Okay, Kit, you win. Not Vogon.
July 20th, 2009 at 10:34 pm
Good job, Kit! <3
July 21st, 2009 at 3:24 pm
I bow humbly before Kit and offer a belated entry. :D
You kiss my abraded lips
Made tender by his five o’clock.
Energy, exuberance, lust still linger
On me, floating around me,
In the folds of my cloths.
Now drive it home, deeper
Farther in than you have been before.
Entwine.
July 21st, 2009 at 3:27 pm
p.s. I say ‘Mistress’ is Vogon. Takes one to know one? ;)
July 21st, 2009 at 3:31 pm
clothes! I meant clothes!
*hangs head in spelling shame*
July 21st, 2009 at 3:31 pm
Takes one to know one, indeed. *grin* You got it in one! :P
Though honesty forces me to admit you’ve not QUITE achieved Vogonity with that one. Work harder!
July 23rd, 2009 at 7:57 am
Three loves, our goal bliss.
Compassion, candor, support…
Where went all my time?
July 30th, 2009 at 12:09 am
Snuggling my bear
I dream about all my loves
and wish they were here.
August 2nd, 2009 at 2:27 pm
Okay, here’s mine… late, but I’m curious. My husband wouldn’t call it Vogon, lol. But he did say it’s not as good as some of my stuff. Our girlfriend liked it.
BTW, this was written on a road trip home when we were in the process of moving her in with us. So I was probably overly sappy at the time.
The Two of Me
Unwavering strength of self
His love is quiet surety
I am safe in his embrace
He taught me to stand,
and remains firmly beside me
Fantasies fulfilled beneath her fingertips
Her love is passionate grace
I see my beauty in her eyes,
and believe
With both, I am utterly shattered…
and never more complete.
August 7th, 2009 at 12:32 pm
First time commenter here… Not a poem, but a song. Caveat: it was written by me when I was a young & idealistic 18-year-old just exploring both my bisexuality and my non-monogamous nature so I highly expect a pronouncement of Vogonity.
A She…
By Melodie
A she.
“A she, oh no it couldn’t be.
How could she want a she?”
It’s me.
And he and she both set me free,
So free to really be.
And he
Connects with every part of me
Yet I still watch for she.
To be
Unbound by society…
Why can’t they see?
This is me…
chorus
And she is me.
I am she.
Reflected on throughout eternity.
Distinctions blur,
Am I still me?
When he
Is lying there right next to me
A picture of safety?
Cause we
Together we are free to flee
conventionality
Three:
Why only two when ecstasy
Can be with three?
To be
Unbound by society
But could they ever see?
This is me…
chorus
And she is me.
I am she.
Reflected on throughout eternity.
A fire burns
Will it consume me?
In she
I view myself, a secret me
One who grew up pretty
Maybe
That girl wants only honesty
Originality
I see
The songs of he and she and we
Are all a tapestry
I’m me
Unbound by society
Because I finally see
This is me.
chorus
And she is me.
I am she.
Reflected on throughout eternity.
Forever more
Together, We.
August 12th, 2009 at 12:55 pm
Yep, Melody, Vogon.
September 2nd, 2009 at 6:25 pm
“Buzz…”
My pretty flowers
I suck nectar from your lips,
rest on your petals
September 22nd, 2009 at 8:40 am
So…see, my mate is a slam poet. Aka, a performance poet. So, his poetry really needs to be experienced. :)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Tpfy93p_d0
October 18th, 2009 at 11:14 pm
I lie still. Unable to move.
From the other room the
sound of you choking drills
nails of sound into my skull
the pain makes me not-sleep
a kind of waking dream
as i listen to you try
to cough up your soul
and i wonder if
i can
ever
forgive her.
…it’s not good. But it’s mine. :)
October 18th, 2009 at 11:15 pm
Huh, the smilie looks out of place. There were originally more spaces between that line and the last line of the poem.