Bedding My Words

Unashamed of my egocentricity,
I stand armoured to sin again,
Eyes panting, ears blinking,
I drool at my words,
Waiting for a lone moment to pleasure myself with them.

Denny me not a chance to court my words,
Let my verbs wet me into ripples of shy ecstasy,
Poetry of my words- see the desire on my lips,
Want me back,
Drive me into panting in between the pauses of my words.

I shall pleasure myself with the feel of my words,
Kiss the tips of their puffing madness,
Coitus with my words,
I be a misfit in your eyes,
But let me find pleasure in the words that are mine,
Stimulate the wells of my intellect,
Wet them,
Explode in ecstasy,
Begotten from the curves of the union of my words.

Let their staleness humour my nerves,
Breaking them into a chord, music on my skin, music within,
Allow me to feed on their madness,
a stimulation of elation,
an explosion.

By Jacque Ndinda see more of her works here

11 thoughts on Bedding My Words

  1. Breaking them into a chord, music on my skin, music within,
    Allow me to feed on their madness,
    a stimulation of elation,
    an explosion.

    I Like!!!!
    Great work Ndinda

    Reply
  2. I know right? Then She claims not to write poetry.. sigh…

    I be a misfit in your eyes,
    But let me find pleasure in the words that are mine,

    Your words come alive Jacque… I like

    Reply
  3. Thank you guys…. really appreciate the feedback..

    It will build me…

    and I cannot bed my words without it…it completes the process…

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  4. Mike wanted personification and boy, did Jacque personify!
    Her writing and words have been given the personality of a lover who she is all to willing to let 'ravish' her.

    Ndinda I like the way you start, especialy with the line,''Amoured, ready to sin again…I drool at my words, witing for that lone moment to pleasure myself with them'' Wow! The lust in those words…

    I love the whole poem to bits, the love and lust paint a picture i can identify with when i think of poetry…

    I however wish you told us what are the fruits of this lustful relationship you have with your words…*womb aches again*

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  5. walalalala kumbe Jacque alikuwa ameficha game hivi vyote??? Wah this poem drips with wetness, dayum its soft porn-ish hahaha a fitting lustful homage! Very good stuff!!!

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  6. Sometimes i think the reader puts on 'heavy -lensed' spectacles in the case of poetic appreciation- Baru, you see things that i myself do not see, and for that i appreciate-

    before i send this post to woozie i was not even sure of its value as a poem- am glad you like it–

    hehe, ati what was your question again? Shadap!!

    wanjeri thanks swty- really appreciate– nitajaribu tena na tena mpaka ushairi niujue!

    Reply
  7. me i think… (i hate people who say me i think) you and woozie need a beating. woozie claims he can't write creative fiction. and you claim you can't write poetry. and then you go on and give us great things.
    maybe you need to be pushed even more. who knows? .letters to victor van gogh may be the next thing you unleash for us, dungaing dungaing our brains. 😀
    about the piece, i like the fact that you didn't shy away from expressing yourself that way. you didn't judge yourself, judge your words by asking how shall society judge me? it reminds me of a thingy on the storymoja noticeboard, it says 'the books that the world calls shameful are the books that show the world its own shame'…
    not that this piece is shameful. it creates powerful images in one's mind about what words mean to you… what words mean to all of us as writers. what we go through… the truth of it, that sometimes we can't wait to be alone so we pleasure ourselves with our words… #WORD
    eyes panting… ears blinking… these organs (?) are doing things they shouldn't be doing. i wonder if the persona feels that way about pleasuring herself with her words… that she has to get away from everyone and write in secret.
    this sentence confused me, though: let their staleness humour my nerves? #worathoz? haha…
    and then the clincher, you said coitus. like sheldon cooper. hahahaha…

    on a serious note, my favourite part of the piece reads:
    …I be a misfit in your eyes,
    But let me find pleasure in the words that are mine,
    Stimulate the wells of my intellect,
    Wet them,
    Explode in ecstasy,
    Begotten from the curves of the union of my words.

    Profound, Jackie. I want to print that out and hang it on my wall.

    Reply
  8. bedding words and wishing they would do stuff to you
    'But let me find pleasure in the words that are mine,
    Stimulate the wells of my intellect,
    Wet them,
    Explode in ecstasy,'

    me figures any sexually oriented act on such a thing as words automatically personifies the subject…
    and this is the point where i sisitiza my earlier point of personification would work better on non animals…
    never the less, the writer also used imagery that clearly provides a munaul of things the writer wants done and if i had been a man i would be taking notes

    ..Waiting for a lone moment to pleasure myself with them…

    could the write be tell us something more about hidden desires???

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  9. Haiya..hadnt seen this comment…deepry deepty I say!! Thanks dear…, see what Woozie's requirements of poetry for his sleepovering made me come up with? Am really glad it didnt hit the wall. I will write more often.. I have actually been doing so…

    "let their staleness humor my nerves…" sometimes we write what I can call mad words, they are way beyond the acceptable,…. other times, we fail to hit the mark and write 'just another poem'..something that has been read before..something stale…. whatever the case, I want the words to still play with my nerves, manage to have an effect at least, stale or fresh…

    Nakupenda!! Nakupenda!!!

    Reply
  10. oh!!!beautiful…every true poet must read this…someone else of shallow thinking would think personification of the words, into a lover, an erotic read…The pride of an artist,being able to bring poetry to life in such a way is utter brilliance!
    "But let me find pleasure in the words that are mine,
    Stimulate the wells of my intellect,"

    True talent dear.

    "I shall pleasure myself with the feel of my words,
    Kiss the tips of their puffing madness,"

    My favorite bit….

    Reply

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