Thursday, February 22, 2007

La Petite Mort

slowly the swirling starts
climbing,
reaching higher
you crest a wave,
it breaks gently and
the swirling begins again
taking you to a new
plateau
the swirling starts
to gather speed and
force
and it crests again
and you're floating
and once more the swirling begins
higher, faster, like
you're on fire
and you keep going even
when you think you can't and
the final wave crests and
you're particles shatter,
turning to dust for
a split second, like
the blink of an eye
you feel whole and empty at the same time
nothingness and everythingness at the same time
and gradually all the molecules come back together
to form what was your body
and you collapse--transcended

4 comments:

Whistler said...

Is this your poem about orgasm?

creative kerfuffle said...

Yes. : ) Actually had thought about the title for quite some time, La Petite Mort, the phrasing appears on one of the older blog posts on my list of favorite things. I've been thinking about describing it for awhile and one night it just...yes, wait for it...it just came to me! he he

Anonymous said...

I'm impressed, both with the poem, and with the Hubs (assuming he was around) ;)

TS

creative kerfuffle said...

Thanks TS. As I've said before, the Hubs is multi-talented! : ) Do you honestly think I'd put up with him if he weren't! LOL