Friday, February 7, 2020

Bad Advertising for Love

Stuck for a Valentine's Day gift?  Try writing an erotic poem.  Windsor, Ont. writer Vanessa Shields offers tips to sensual writing.

Oh, boy.  Where to begin?

At first I thought it was a parody piece, after reading lines like "Stuck for a Valentine's Day...", "Vanessa Shields offers tips.." just the tip and "take a crack at some erotic writing".  But it's the CBC so that's enough to leave anyone dry and my out-of-context quotes are the most stimulating thing about that article.

If you're not familiar with the songs I come up with, they used to be innudeno-ish/funny type lyrics with titles like Landing Strip, Esther's In Town, Drive You Home, etc.  Double Entendre Potty Humour was my specialty.  Obviously, as I've gotten older and more mature, I now come up with songs like Suspicious Package, Beach Whistle and Taking It On The Chin.

"We're going to be thinking about trying to write about pleasure and sensuality," said Shields. "I'm going to be giving people things to write about based on the five senses — so sensuality and senses really will guide the workshop."

Not that I like to stereotype people's appearances (even though it's a great time saver), looking at the photo of Ms Shields, I know exactly what type of crowd she'll attract: over-60ers who might think this is still something wild and taboo and/or blush at episodes of Three's Company.  From the other side of the spectrum, expect awkward, progressives in their 20s that still ask for consent from their socks.  It'll be the most G-rated erotica ever put to paper.  Which isn't very erotic.

"It can be explicit but for the purpose of our workshop we're not going to be really reaching into those realms," she said. "We're going to be writing using central words and thinking about sensuality more than sex."

Again, I was almost fooled with the "really reaching into those realms".  And then came the worst advertisement for an event I've ever read: she posted a poem of hers. 


It wasn't the way the black dress fit her full body like a love song
It wasn't the way the red lipstick clung to her plump mouth like a poem
It wasn't the way the silver stilettos embraced her slender feet like a promise
It was the unfinished story in her eyes
The yearning blue dappled with specks of yellow hope
It was the soft sounds of my name creating themselves in her heart
I went to her

To counter that, here's the first two verses of an old ditty that I had on one of my older CDs:

The Case of the Missing Finger

Whoa no, where did it go?  It was here just a moment ago
It was right here beside me; now it's gone into hiding
By the way have you seen it?  I just can't figure
Maybe you can help me solve the case of the missing finger.

Ah hah, I just found it, I knew that you were around it
How the heck did it get up there?  I think this thing needs some air
I know that you like the feel of it and that smell may linger
I'm glad that you could help me solve the case of the missing finger.


Anyways, if you live near Windsor and you pee when you laugh, this might be something that's right up your alley - no pun intended.  The erotic writing workshop will be held Saturday at Gertrude's Writing Room, located in the Coach House at Willistead Park.  Good luck and Happy Valentine's Day.

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