Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Sea Salted Kisses (a 2002 poem)

Rescue me from men
who kiss with lips tight
as mother's old girdle,
see females as holes
to spade in the dark and
when asked about foreplay
drag out their golf clubs
in utter confusion.

Give me a man who
wraps his tongue
tight around mine
knows what spaces
to stroke
and explore,
a man who will
take the damp side
of the bed, and dampen
it again, who will sigh

deeply as the moon falls
over the sea,
knowing salt-borne
dreams will arouse us
over and yet
over again when
morning tides rise
and the seagulls sing.

Pris Campbell

I enjoy having fun with poetry. This is one example. It was published in Limestone Press, a print journal that closed its doors after a planned four year run.


azure_erin said...

I love this kind of stuff Pris! These are the kinds of images i dream of conjuring. Thanks for sharing... can I put it on my site if I link to you?

Pris said...

Of course. I'd love it if you link to my website, instead of the blob. That's at

and thanks!

loisseau said...

Fine poem -evocative to another ENFP.

Pris said...

Thanks, Jim...and we share the same profile? Shoulda known:-)

Anonymous said...

You are really great at these free-rolling erotic poems of yours, Pris (they my not be erotic in South Florida, but they are to me, living in the north of England, where sex has only just been invented and is still second in importance to football, for the masses.) You make language come alive and jump off the page. btw, I always seem to get the damp side of the bed, somehow ...

Me, blushing, and still ananym ... how do you spell that again? G.