Aug 2010
I was like the jungle king,
She was like the jungle queen,
She was running ****,
Except wearing those flowers,
And I was wearing the waves,
That kissed me otherwise ****.
All those strange creatures on the beach,
They all ignored us for burning together,
Burning for sin,
Craving for sin,
Like the reptiles being swallowed by their dens,
The **** of a man,
Kissing the pit of a woman,
The evolution of thirst,
The ******* of burst,
Everything protected by the transparent curtains of water.
She was like the jungle queen,
I was like the jungle king,
I was ******* her crude,
Except my censored spermatozoon blushing out,
And she was nowhere to consume,
My sapid feelings in her faked frame.
She was like the jungle queen,
She was running ****,
Except wearing those flowers,
And I was wearing the waves,
That kissed me otherwise ****.
All those strange creatures on the beach,
They all ignored us for burning together,
Burning for sin,
Craving for sin,
Like the reptiles being swallowed by their dens,
The **** of a man,
Kissing the pit of a woman,
The evolution of thirst,
The ******* of burst,
Everything protected by the transparent curtains of water.
She was like the jungle queen,
I was like the jungle king,
I was ******* her crude,
Except my censored spermatozoon blushing out,
And she was nowhere to consume,
My sapid feelings in her faked frame.
Red Gingers is the wildest of my compositions. The picture of a lover lost in the dreams of his consumed heroine is hard enough to be expressed without true feelings. The composition required hallucinated images of the lover rather than rich metaphors. Another interesting feature of the poem is like the background nature explained parallel in the backdrop which even though looks vivid, yet vague in the eyes of the blind lovers. I think I have tried to impart complete justice as related to the script.
