Friday, February 3, 2012

Incubus IV


Incubus IV

It’s perplexing 
that the incubus is still
after all these nights
a mystery to me, with his
rippling heat, his sudden chills
and I to him 
the last unknown.
Tonight he’s here to play his games,
oh the same games so sweet and heavy
with desire I can barely carry them
to the last decimal.
I don’t choose to resist; resistance
only teases. Besides,
he keeps me too busy to care, while he
recites beneath my breath the half-made spell
he's come to fetch my blood to cook.
I know he wants to
catch me in a foolishness
even greater than the one that calls him here
but I am sly, slyer than I was
before he seared that first split hoofprint on my breast,
before we danced tail to tail under the cracked moon
before he claimed on smoky contractual clauses
with just a trace of suphur-tinged regret.

No, he won’t catch me
till he turns his back and finds
I’m wound where he had no idea
I could bind.



February 2012


Posted for   Fireblossom Friday  at Real Toads
The inimitable Fireblossom hosts today at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, and her theme is temptation, or perhaps confession, or both. I'm obviously too perplexed to tell.


This is a companion piece to Incubus, Incubus II, and Incubus III


23 comments:

  1. I expect to be invited to a coven at any minute!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Very nice. I love the revelation, with the last say, and the last bit of power.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Whew, truly this chills me! I am glad it is morning and the wind is not blowing outside.

    ReplyDelete
  4. The serial treatments of this Devil with Blue Shoes allow us to observe the history of a desire, each poem a chapter in a larger book that finishes when it's done with us (not the other way around). And the speaker should be wiser at this game -- and is -- and yet the nature of desire is confounding, its magic fooling every magician. When we think we have it, it has us; when we think we're done, it laughs. Can't live with it, can't live without it; And like Rhiannon, the greatest surprise is finding out who's seeking who. Thus is the incubus drained. Go figure. Stellar. - Brendan

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh I'm sure he'll be back for a refill, that being his nature--and then there's that contract...kinda hard to litigate with the Arch Fiend. ;_) Thanks for reading B. Can't get to your entry.

      Delete
  5. all too real...glad you bound it up

    You have such a richly honed style. Very much appreciate your skill and talent.

    ReplyDelete
  6. an interesting little riddle in that last stanza there hedge...seared the first cloven footprint on my breast is def a chilling line

    ReplyDelete
  7. Witchy! Turnabout is fair play, so they say. I love all of these incubus poems (of course...the Succubus would stop speaking to me if I didn't), and this one has no shortage of fantastic (in both the common and the dictionary sense) images and twists. I the deliciously disturbing notion of what he needs in order to cook his spell, and I love the dancing tail to tail under a cracked moon. But it is the sly turning of the tables at the end that is the most wicked, and therefore best.

    Thanks so much for being part of FBF! It wouldn't have been the same without you.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Wow! I don't suppose it gets any darker or more secret than an incubus temptation!

    ReplyDelete
  9. I love the dark temptation ~

    "before he seared that first split hoofprint on my breast,
    before we danced tail to tail under the cracked moon
    before he claimed on smoky contractual clauses
    with just a trace of suphur-tinged regret."

    ReplyDelete
  10. wow, i really like the strength of that last stanza.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Marian, for your support, and comments on Facebook. Much appreciated. Glad you liked this one, it's been a fun series.

      Delete
  11. Cat and mouse games with an incubus! Love it! And it sounds like you may have won!

    ReplyDelete
  12. "I'm wound where he had no idea I could bind." I read this right after Fireblossom's. One could skulk away in defeat, you two are so good. But I wont:) I love your writing, kiddo. You are way good!

    ReplyDelete
  13. Wow- love the change of course towards the end. I think we've all known an incubus to some degree... at least I have. It is a spell, that's for sure... or insanity.

    http://lkharris-kolp.blogspot.com/2012/02/cant-you-feel-it.html

    ReplyDelete
  14. Cleverly written with a touch of chill...a temptation to go back and read again and again...and again.

    ReplyDelete
  15. Exemplary, mood-pervasive work - everything works in this.

    ReplyDelete
  16. Love the tail to tail. Giving as good as getting! K.

    ReplyDelete
  17. Slyer than you were... but are you slyer than him?

    with just a trace of sulphur-tinged regret. This line, sheer brilliance.

    Enjoyable read.

    ReplyDelete
  18. I don’t choose to resist; resistance
    only teases.

    Not many people are that honest about what tempts them. The photo is chilling and the words match!

    ReplyDelete
  19. I agree with Dave. That's the line that got me, too, Hedge: "with just a trace of sulphur-tinged regret" is indeed brilliant.
    K

    ReplyDelete
  20. Wow, what a piece to come back to! I had to read all the other Incubus pieces after this.

    Of course I was picturing my lovely succubi that I tend not to resist. ;)

    ReplyDelete
  21. "before he claimed on smoky contractual clauses
    with just a trace of suphur-tinged regret." love that.

    ReplyDelete

'Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance' ~Carl Sandburg