Rogue Poem (Poetry)

Even as I write
I have a niggling suspicion
this poem doesn’t want to
be the one I intended
it has the feel
of a renegade fired up
with the frustration and
the rich raw passion
I usually try to keep
damped down
so it doesn’t unduly alarm
some sensitive reader —
the sort who might take offence
at a suggestive word or phrase
and be shocked
to her matronly mores

But this small notion
birthed innocently
only a few minutes since
seems determined to
be bold and express with rather
more abandon than
the common rhyme might
have a mind to
and takes the chance to whip
emotion to a state of ecstasy

I see it’s lining up a very
daring vocabulary
the margins bursting with
pink-tinged embarrassment
the pen dithers — ink inching
backwards like a bridegroom’s
nervous instrument
the virgin sheets too
clinical and cold
the heart’s not ready for
such nakedness so
be still the pumping expectation
be content with lesser thrills
until the lusty poem bursts
onto the page to
make women faint
men cry astonished — stopped
in their mental tracks ...

The writer then
a little baffled at
the way the words have
grabbed control is
unsure they want to
claim the credit for this
pushy shameless poem’s
evolution

Maybe it needs an
adult warning about
erotic content that’s
likely to disturb ...
and here’s another thought —
how many swarms of saucy
porno-peddlers are there
hiding safe behind the
often-seen sobriquet: ANON?
I cannot comfortably
join that throng — I
don’t belong — oh
blesséd sanitzing shredder —
here I come!