Baste Me...
Stream of Consciousness, introspective poem thing.
baste me...baste me
like a chicken or turkey
or maybe a guinea fowl
in sweet nectar
tainted by vinegar
nutmeg me between thy legs
nutmeg me and roast my ...
walnuts, chestnuts
chess nuts make their move
chest...butts, lets groove
needle to the groove
groove of my heart
heart, mind and soul
soul solo, dripping
dripping with sweat
basted and ready
for the feast
dive right in
devour my sins
my aches, regrets
taste of bitter
acrid and acidic
poison of the tongue
covert, clandestine
duplicity
my own mastery
pierce of my hubris
every time I see your face
and bathe in your elegance
Your serene, pink flesh grace
I remember all I've done
I remember all we've become
misery my gift
flavour the feast
until the veil is lifted
and blame can't be shifted
needle to the groove
music to face
baste me...baste me
just in case
baste me...in forgiveness
*
Thanks for reading!
Author's Notes: This is what I love about Stream of Consciousness writing - never know quite where something is going to take me when I start. This was supposed to be a slightly surreal, slightly sensual poem...then it took a turn.
Hope you enjoyed it!
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About the Creator
Paul Stewart
Scottish-Italian poet/writer from Glasgow.
Overflowing in English language torture and word abuse.
"Every man has a sane spot somewhere" R.L Stevenson
The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection is now available!
https://paulspoeticprints.etsy.com
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Comments (7)
Sir Paul, no matter what you're basted with, can I roast and eat you? Ngl, your poem made me so hungry hahahahhaa. Jokes aside, I loved the deep ending! 🍩🥐
At first I was aroused (and hungry), then I was intrigued (still hungry) and by the end I was enamored of the entire poem (and had to make myself a turkey sandwich). Haha, sorry, I'm feeling a bit silly right now. But I truly enjoyed your poem. 😁
This did take a turn, Paul, but I think I got a little lost. As you mention in your note at the end, it began with surreal imagery and then transitioned to sensual, but after that it appeared to wander fairly broadly as it featured sin eating and several suggestive comments about how difficult and even repugnant the consumption of that sin would be. From this perspective, basting might be suggestive of failed attempt at masking reality much like if a cut of steak has gone bad, no amount of steak sauce will make it palatable. But then the tone changes abruptly with ‘Until the veil is lifted and blame can’t be shifted.’ Although this feels like the key to understanding the poem, you have one more surprise up your sleeve when you liken basting to forgiveness. Either the meaning of basting has shifted from basting to flavor/mask to forgiveness, or I have missed its meaning entirely. Hence my confusion. The challenge for interpreting a complex poem (which this is) is determining the meaning of the symbols. I not sure I know what you intended basting to symbolize. Even when we allow, so to speak, a poem to wander where it will, a surrendering of conscious management of the process is not the same as scribbling random bits of nonsense. In essence it cedes control to our subconscious which always has something to say whether we understand it or not. I have a hard enough time understanding my own subconscious mutterings, let alone deciphering someone else’s. So there you have it. I wandered into your poem and can’t find my way back out of it. Help me! I’m lost in Paul’s pysche!
The imagery of basting, flavors, and the feast creates a unique metaphor for the complexities of human emotions and experiences. We're very happy to read this work, “liked" it, and hope to read more of your works, thank you very much for sharing this wonderful journey of the soul, subscribed.
I'd say this took a turn!! I thought we were going for humorous and sexy, but this turned deep real quick! That being said... that walnuts line made me laugh so hard!! Great work Paul!!
I guess you need a master baster. 😏
great 👍