Living In The Body

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    Poem Commentary

    Another reflection from a poem in English class.
    I wrote it about a boy that I like.

    Living In The Body

    I wonder what it's like
    living in the body
    of the person I can't stop thinking about.

    The eyes I want to gaze into.
    the arms I wish to wrap around myself,
    the hair I dream of running my fingers through,
    and the ears I whisper sweet words into.

    I often wonder what it's like
    being him.
    Being the perfection he is.
    Breathing in air
    and breathing out his being.

    Knowing he could have me
    wrapped around his finger
    twirling me,
    bending me,
    doing whatever it is he pleases.

    I watch him
    staring at the fireflies
    that aren't there anymore.
    Stading in an open field
    is that boy
    living in that body.

    By: Brandi Deacon
    2009

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    knight4696 commented on Living In The Body

    04-08-2010

    BMB - Very Nice! You surprise me .. You have a great gift at such a young age. You express your emotions with such clarity as well as the imagery. Awesome Work! :) Ken

    BringMeBullets

    04/09/2010

    Thank you much, Ken. :)

    BikemanRJ commented on Living In The Body

    03-25-2010

    Another awesome poem great word flow and you really had my attention of course I was thinking of the opposite sex. Good read God Bless BikemanRJ

    BringMeBullets

    03/25/2010

    Ha ha. Thank you. :)

    dahlusion commented on Living In The Body

    03-10-2010

    "I wonder what it's like living in the body of the person I can't stop thinking about." — the surreal depth of this line would make Andre' Breton gasp in his grave or make Salvador Dali turn it in to a painting.

    BringMeBullets

    03/10/2010

    Aww. Thanks, Dah. :)

    Jayandben commented on Living In The Body

    11-11-2009

    :D That's all that comes to mind. so many good poems! :D

    BringMeBullets

    11/12/2009

    Your poems are great too, so whatever! And thank you so much for the support. :)

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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