Recipes for Recreational Sex*
Slip me a cold stream pooling deep
rain filtered through native soil
bring me the whirring wings of delight
prairies dotted with depressed nests
many upright two-leggers seek novelty
but give me what the seasons breed
a mosaic of shelter and food to wild
my kind, generations to know new
aphrodisiacs tease pleasure out of water
clearly the domain of rational creatures
but you don’t have to slyly coax
simply remove fear and all is fair game
* * *
* The title is a tease. It was harder to write to prompt this week than I imagined! I’ve had all kinds of thoughts coiling around my brain, most of them saying not to reveal much of myself. Lesson: It’s not a good move for the heart & mind to censor out of hand before one even starts to write.
Regardless, I Initially wanted to write another frog poem (what would a frog consider as an aphrodisiac?) and then I moved to found poems using a recipe as form. Nothing was working very well (due to muzzled or constipated creativity), but I since I wanted time to read the other circus-goers poems, I had to get something down so I could move on.
This is all in the category of too much information, but perhaps sharing writing struggles is a good thing.
I ended up thinking of red-legged frogs and western meadowlarks and what they need to breed. They are species in decline in Oregon, and the meadowlark is our state bird. I have only seen them (not counting during my childhood in Arizona) in southern Washington, hiking the Coyote Wall area.
Other responses to the prompt (which I loved the idea of!) are here.
Related posts:
Thanks for the explanation. I’m glad we’re talking about frogs and meadowlarks!
“many upright two-leggers seek novelty/but give me what the seasons breed” ought to be just as appropriate for us!
Oh, yes. I meant those “upright two-leggers” as being humans, who uniquely seek novelty (I think so, anyway).
Complications of feelings vs. instincts. Or rather feelings/biological drive vs simple biological drive.
Oh, bother. This is why it’s a tough idea for me.
This evolved as an intriguing piece of writing! There is a feeling of finding sensual pulses in Nature, and yet no one impulse from vernal springs is enough! The drive of craving and thirst become the actual aphrodisiacs – the struggle and not the win! (Hope all that makes sense!) I think that reinforces why you needed to explain your wrestling with the prompt!
Deb, You brought me into the wet with your narrator. What a clever idea becoming a frog. Who knew they thought such things?
Reading your poem reminded me of the sensation of watching insects mate, and how strange it is. It seems without sensuality or lust, though how can we know for sure? A beautiful dance in miniature. Now frogs, other than the cottage we had for 10 years, aren’t seen in the city… I had a lovely sense of that wet, moist, fecund amphibiousness and green, green… which was a delight. A lovely poem like clear water.
The natural flow of this piece is as delightful as a fresh-water stream. I like the cool water reference and the plea to remove the fear. Nice.
Wow, you got me! I’m way beyond novelty, though….
Your first line had me dreaming of the real thing, “Slip me a cold stream pooling deep rain filtered through native soil.” I grew up at a lake in the country (one of MN 10,000 lakes) and there were little streams where the water ran clear and cold. I’m sure it doesn’t any longer. It’s probably thick with pesticides and trash. Well done!
Yall are too kind. But I thank you!!
:-) Pretty clear instructions, I’d say, but a bit difficult to carry out. Can’t I bring back a hair from the beard of the Frost Giant instead?
Yes. Yes, you may. :-)
(It does have that feel to it. I might work more of that in a future revision.)
I do agree with your little friend that water is clearly the domain of rational creatures
(there was a segment on the evening news the other night about a mass of frogs stopping traffic when they crossed a highway–apparently it was to get to the other side)
They were looking for food, is the theory I heard.
Well said Deb
“give me what the seasons breed”
what a nice thought
Pamela
Deb, Interesting reading your notes and then realising the narrator is a frog. “Whirring wings of delight” I thought would be a fly, not a meadowlark. I am confused coz of a simple mind. I like the image of the running stream. It is interesting to immerse into the insect kingdom. That would be an aside remark I suppose.
this is a great poem. makes me want to slip in alongside the water’s edge to watch the frogs/ birds frolic, etc. thanks for taking me there. hope all is well. have a great night.
Really enjoyed the bits of alliteration throughout this poem. I especially like how it ended:
“but you don’t have to slyly coax
simply remove fear and all is fair game.”
Well done, Deb!
Thanks for stopping by my blog earlier! :-)
~Mark
aphrodisiacs tease pleasure out of water
reminded me of TS Eliot’s opening lines in “The Waste Land”:
“April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
dull roots with spring rain.”
Not cruel, here. But it IS now May. Removing fear may be a difficult task, but you’ve nicely laid out the path.
Ok — I get your fear and I get your self-censoring. But, I don’t get that you don’t get what you just did. When I read your poem, I thought for sure that you had been to the hot springs in Ridgway, CO, where the option is to go sans suit…and where the waters hold no hint of sulfur, but plenty of lithium, so any amount of time spent in that water will alter normal “rational” moods. The only thing that threw me off was the “cold” water…
And, that’s it…yes (oh, I could be so wrong). You are generalizing throughout — nothing concrete or specific, and that’s how you are hiding your uneasiness over the prompt, right? If you want to know about those hot springs, I’ll tell you and you can toss in a few named places, change the water from cold to hot and you’ll have a real recipe for recreational sex. LOL!
I loved the line ‘prairies dotted with depressed nests’
http://thelaughinghousewife.wordpress.com
Not Quite On Prompt, you say? Au contraire. Cold water love can be very hot. QED
Sorry I couldn’t respond to this sooner; and thanks for stopping be Scrambled, Not Fried
Each couplet reads like a stand alone poem, and the entire piece reminds me of a ghazal. It’s very hard to write openly about our sexuality. Writing from the point of view of another creature is a great way to get at the subject. There’s something very eggy and slippery and sexual about frogs. Something sort of primal. I totally see why you chose this subject.
[...] Stoney Moss Slip me a cold stream pooling deep rain filtered through native soil [...]
Such breadth! And soft, delightful sounds, imagery, and turns of phrase. My favorites:
“Slip me a cold stream pooling deep
rain filtered through native soil
“whirring wings of delight
prairies dotted with depressed nests”
“give me what the seasons breed”
“a mosaic of shelter and food to wild
my kind”
“aphrodisiacs tease pleasure out of water
clearly the domain of rational creatures”
I could have quoted the whole thing. A real delight to read and reread.
I too have known those struggles, but I think you came up with an extremely interesting piece. The third couplet goes to the heart of the issue I awkwardly tried to address in my own poem.
To me this was very fittin, Deb, as I know how much you love nature. I found it quite beautiful…Now, get back to work and write something yhou find a bit “uncomfortable”!