Treasure Island

Lawrence Durrell

(1912 - 1990 / Nepal)

Strip-tease


Soft toys that make to seem girls
In cool whitewash with two coral
Valves of lip printing each others' grease ...
A clockwork Cupid's bow. Increase!
Their cherry-ripe hullo brims the open purse
Of eyes washed white by the marmoreal light;
So swaying as if on pyres they go
About the buried business of the night,
Cold witches of the elementary tease
Balanced on the horn of a supposed desire...
Trees shed their leaves like some of these.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read poems about / on: light, night, tree, girl

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Strip-tease by Lawrence Durrell )

Enter the verification code :

  • Chris Dawson (1/28/2009 5:36:00 PM)

    just the kind of piece that turns society in general off from exploring the world poetry...would there be a finer example? (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. For Just Tonight, Susan Lacovara
  2. My Love, Col Muhamad Khalid Khan
  3. Mahua tree, gajanan mishra
  4. Why Are You So 'Nasty'?, Lawrence S. Pertillar
  5. Elegy For Whitney, michael walker
  6. This Poet's Playground, Susan Lacovara
  7. LIFE OF THE AFRICAN CHILDREN, Great Emeritus
  8. Joy, Ashutosh ramnarayan Prasad K ..
  9. The mason's daughter, Maheshwer Peri
  10. My mother is still living with me, gajanan mishra

Poem of the Day

poet Helen Hunt Jackson

The month of carnival of all the year,
When Nature lets the wild earth go its way,
And spend whole seasons on a single day.
The spring-time holds her white and purple dear;
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]