You Tell Me

September 20, 2006




You tell me erotic is the intellect,

yet wine is the key to your cage.

You say you love me when you can,

with tension, fear and tightrope songs.


These words touching my mind,

these melodies on a page,

sung for yourself, your mind,

words on a page unsung.



I came to you for loving touch,

tongues speaking into hands.

I touched impermeable love,

absence where none thrives


Kissing lips closed and strained,

excluding when night turned to me,

with carnal kisses in the dark,

unbound within my mouth.


You cooked in love and care,

with focus unsurpassed, to chop,

to stir, sauté, and simmer,

your rhythm unbound precision.


The eating, light, and love;

this cooking care did utter,

sensation into sighing. You

watched soul savoring sustenance.


Then in the asking: Is it good?

I learned your way of knowing.

You said, “You distracted me;

I might have missed a cue.”


Mystified by stranger words,

I learned you felt my touch,

My kiss, my body, stirring

cuisine cooking, your mind.


I wander in the question:

Does the mind pace its prison?

Where the jaguar clashes with the cage?

Who is this man locked away?



It must not be me you wanted.

Something other took you to

A place I do not know.

That I can never give.


And, yet, I dreamed I did.







Poem: You Tell Me

Poet : kimsmith

Time: september 2006

Top Painting: The Dreamer

Arstist: Robert Brawley

Bottom Painting: Inward

Artist: Laura Orchard




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4 Responses to “You Tell Me”

  1. Kristine said

    Exquisite poem. Jealousy is not a word to use lightly, but your entire space, blog sight is a treat to rest in, gaze upon, wallow for awhile without stress. I am grateful. And you must be far South/gulf shores. You share well. I am scatter brained…take care.

  2. kimtelas said

    I think you need to know that I am in a serious grieving moment and this is how I am channeling immense pain and energy.

    As to appreciating my poem, I thank you.

    I have started writing every day now and things are happening, cooking, and fermenting.

    I go to Soul Food Cafe to the writing prompts that are good for me. I am working on a fractured fairy tale poem about Cinderella. Stay tuned,though it could be years. One just never knows….

    The rest?


  3. davidbdale said

    This is the second time you have drawn me into a poem that uses cooking metaphors for love. Either you are ravenous, or I am.

  4. kimtelas said


    Ravenous is a layered word.


    Food symbolizes. It has a place in our psyche and souls from the moment we take nourishment.

    Food is about the body.

    Yey, as humans we have a way of being biological and beyond. So, you tell me about the kitchen. Eh?

    And, we are all ravenous. We are human.

    So, in assuming you and I are human: We both are.

    Take care,


    PS You have evoked memories and how my family related to food and community. Hmm. Thank you. Something to write/image about.

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