$12.95
ISBN 1576121992
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Reviewed by Betti Mustang
(06/15/05)
When I was a teenager I carried around a little hardback green notebook with me everywhere. In it I would scribble prose -- little notes to myself on my favorite subjects of love, life, and sex. It was my secret garden, my little pleasure. It filled my confused existence with meaning.
One fateful day, my mother opened it up, read a bit too much, threw it in the trash, and immediately called our family pastor for intervention. Evidently, my adolescent discoveries and subsequent thoughts did not fall neatly into the "What Would Jesus Do" guideline of our family's existence.
A decade has passed. I still love my mother. I still miss my notebook. I still write. I still think. I still think about sex. I am borderline obsessed with finding out what others are thinking about the subject. I am part writer-exhibitionist, part writer-voyeur.
Today, I am the writer-voyeur.
This afternoon, I received a copy of Velvet Heat: Erotic Poetry for the Carnal Mind in the mail to review. I held it in my hands. I tested out its folding ability -- I am a firm believer that poetry should fit in the pocket. I fanned through the pages, smelled the paper and the ink. My serotonin levels rose when my eyes scanned page after page of stanzas -- mini-rhythms. Poetry. A whole book of poetry. Erotic Poetry.
The world, if only for a moment, felt new again. There were secrets to uncover, little snippets of brilliance and brain ejaculation to digest. Velvet Heat became like a little guilty pleasure, my window into countless erotic minds. It didn't disappoint.
There is poetry for every appetite and mood in Velvet Heat. For example, "circles" by Thomas S. Roche is a rich and vivid poem that is read in an amazing round-a-bout rhythm. There is not one word in the poem that would categorize it as erotica, but it is. It leaves you spinning and wanting to read it again. The more you read it, the more erotic the images become. Human curiosity, human observation, human desire.
"The Frog Prince" by Lawrence Schimel is a short descriptive poem about an unerect penis. Funny? Yes. Thought provoking? Oddly, yes.
"Nocturnal Admission" by Chip Livingston is a heart-wrenching poem about a young boy coming of age with homosexual fantasies. This is one that really got me. My whole being felt this poem.
My favorites for the night are "the illusion of feeling" by Lavie Tidman, and "Upon Finding a Porn Video in My Son's Room" by Shanna Germain. "the illusion of feeling" brought back all these really weird memories of being a side-bang. I'll spare you the details, but this poem hit home. "Upon Finding a Porn Video in My Son's Room" covered some really deep subject matter that I've been thinking about lately: How do you teach your kids about sex? Isn't that our responsibility as parents? Germain's poem made me feel wistful, worried, responsible, and tender all at the same time. Now that's a fucking accomplishment.
I have a daughter, not a son. She's four years old, not eighteen -- so I have some time to figure this whole sex-ed thing out. I do know, though, that when she is old enough I will give her what will be, by that time, my folded and tattered copy of Velvet Heat to explore, and I will never, ever throw away any of her notebooks.
Pick up a copy of Velvet Heat today and creep into the minds of some of today's hottest poets of erotica!
