The Female Angler - A Light at the End...
This is a metaphor – surprise! Like everything I write isn’t jam-packed with my favorite poetic device. The tool here being the Female Angler Fish. Did you know, that the pictures you’ve most likely seen of the angler fish, are all female? These big, beginning of time looking beasts; all big jaws and teeth, and a lightbulb lure on top of their head, are all female. the male looks like a tiny, fat guppy. plain as day. To mate, the male sniffs out the female, and attaches itself to the side of her stomach, bites into her flesh with his sharp little teeth, and is slowly absorbed right into her until he is totally gone? His sole purpose is to become her. I thought it so strange and cool that I had to write about it. i’m sure you all understand that need. :)
The Female Angler - A Light at the End... belongs to the following groups:
! Creative Writing & Poetry !, "Poetry and Beautiful Women" , All Things Poetic, Artistic, Philosophical, Creative, Talented, and Unknown, Parallel Dimensions, Up & Coming Writers and WMGI wonder…
if she were to see her own reflection, shining
exponentially, like some great boon from the arc
of her own abstract –
would she be temped,
by her own lure?
Her own organically, singular possibility?
How attractive does one light-baring organism
have to be,
before it lights up its own shadows?
Becomes,
its own moon?
Does she even notice when he bites her?
Digging in with his miniscule bravado,
undersized organs and non-descript meaning;
does she feel herself absorbing the male of him –
his spine,
and every shivering notion of him as it pushes
its way in; through her ripe skin like
an arm stuck
in a turbine.
His testosterone through her organs;
pulsing and thrusting, bombarding her own –
the dark-side of her galaxy –
forced to try on his bland, disposable suit
for size.
It fits. It always fits.
And if it didn’t?
She would make it fit.
Or does she just keep hunting
like the predator that she is.
Her iridescent, tear-shaped tumbler, set out
before her like an ancient Egyptian flask –
(it held organs too, once)
baring her mandibles, razors and headlights
until everything but her need,
is forgotten -
satisfied as a recently detonated missile,
or orgasm gone mad;
in an innumerable number of pieces,
searching only
for the next, big thing.
How wretched would she find her reflection
if she saw herself absorbing him by the light
of her own bait -
in a mirror
of her own making?
Would she stop?
Suck in her orifice-less underbelly as he danced
the dance,
of his closing hours,
trying to make herself
more attractive, or shake
unconditionally
until she was free
of that God Damn parasite?
And even if she knew
that all he really wanted
was to be inside of her –
would her light dim, just for a moment,
after he was finally gone?
Hell, no.
She’d eat herself too, if she could.
© Kristin Reynolds 6 3 09
autumnwind
Wow! Freakin AWESOME!! xoxo
Kristin Reynolds replied
thanks hun-bun! Kristin XO
Blanchot
This is extraordinarily powerful K. The ending is so strong and affrirmative, even, as Nietzsche says, of the cruelty and pain of life. Stay strong, Chica. This is I note the most recent of all of your poems. Keep it up! It’s fantastic!
Kristin Reynolds replied
you the Dog,thank you. :) K
Shoaib .
beautiful metapho… wow i was completely blown away by this
also kinda reminded me of some human relationships ive seen hahaha
great job here .. this is def a favorite for me :)
Kristin Reynolds replied
Thank you so much! you hit the nail on the head. :) Kristin
oneperfectkiss
for once i’m speechless but i have to fav. X
Kristin Reynolds replied
you are too kind, thank you. :)
Kristin Reynolds
Well, thank you all so very much, my ego is purring. :) Shoaib, yes, exactly what i was going for – metaphor, it’s the best.
Rust-man, yes, the most recent of what i’ve posted…more to come. :) Thanks again, guys, Kristin
Mark Ramstead
You must go through life wide eyed all the time… I like the thought of that.
Kristin Reynolds replied
ha! I try. thanks, Mark. :)