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Passions in Poetry

When Diamonds Are Forever (redux 3)

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icebox
Member Elite
since 05-03-2003
Posts 4345
in the shadows


0 posted 02-13-2018 08:21 PM       View Profile for icebox   Email icebox   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions  View IP for icebox




The sky is pink this dawn,
a fitting start I think
too realized,
the very air we breathe
will batter it to blue
in just a few degrees,
maybe this color is diluted
from startled threads of ache
still flashing red
reflected
from deep inside my brain,
as if raw color by itself
is trying to explode my head;

when I was young
I used to think I mattered in the world,
and would look for portents,
omens,
any day's predictors
scattered at each dawn
like reading tea leaves for tomorrow
or puzzling over entrails
drawn out from a day gone by,
a day I may have sacrificed
to stand upon its bones
to reach the sky,
or at least to grasp the fetal edge
of yet another day.

No more do I share prophecies,
except as party tricks
and as guidance for fools
who think it helps if they die rich;
I squandered energy
the way the sun consumes itself,
the way I redistributed wealth
in my own private sort of class war
never realizing
there would come a time
when I would have not
more than all I have.

Today is Valentine's Day.
Saint Valentine's festival of foolishness,
Valentine the pagan,
Valentine the pederast,
Valentine the twisted monk,
tortured in his cell
for drawing obscene imagery in sacred texts,
now abstract and known so well,
yet back then almost had him burned alive,
today we cast it into candy
as we strive to weave seduction
into one of pride's little acquisitions,
little murders of the soul;

Valentine,
I am so glad your stylized heart
doesn't look like mine;
I've seen the images in stone
carved by hands long turned to dust
before you were compelled
by holy orders to adjust the meaning
of your scratches and atone
for your own petty soft abominations.

You must have lived more than once,
and needed time beyond one life,
to resolve agonies of harrowed soul
that plagued your thoughts
and left us with this very strange holiday
of sorts and torts and fantasies that supports candy stores and jewelers,
and caves where Hallmark cards
are sold like dispensations
to hopeful masses wishing for redemption,
for living
in a world where skies can turn to blue.

2008, 2010, 2011, 2014, 2015, 2017 by icebox
  

© Copyright 2018 icebox - All Rights Reserved
Bluesy Socrateaser
Senior Member
since 11-07-2002
Posts 1458
In The Mirror


1 posted 02-14-2018 12:03 AM       View Profile for Bluesy Socrateaser   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Bluesy Socrateaser

It pays to keep an 'X' on a calendar. It never fails to mark the spot.

...just bein' Bluesy

 
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