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Open Poetry #50
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When Diamonds Are Forever (redux redux)
| Open Poetry #50 |
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When Diamonds Are Forever (redux redux) |
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icebox Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 4383in the shadows 
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The sky is pink this dawn, a fitting start I think too realized, as the very air we breathe, in just a few degrees, will batter it to blue; maybe this color is diluted from startled threads of you still flashing reds, reflecting pain from deep inside my soul, as if raw color by itself is trying to explode my brain; when I was young I used to think I mattered in the world, and would look for omens, memory's out take portents, any day's predictors scattered at each dawn, like reading tea leaves for tomorrow or puzzling over entrails drawn from days gone by, perhaps a day I sacrificed in bold to scry upon its bones to cast the sky, or at least to grasp its fetal edge and lie yet to enfold 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 depletes itself, the way I disseminated wealth in my own private class war never realizing there would come a time when I would have not more than all I had consumed. 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, like lies for the reluctant, sweets be always handy 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 blown away in wind's song gone 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 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, 2018, 2019, 2020 by icebox |
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BluesSerenade Member Patricius
since 2001-10-23
Posts 10549By the Seaside |
The sky is pink this dawn, a fitting start I think too realized, as the very air we breathe, in just a few degrees, will batter it to blue; maybe this color is diluted from startled threads of you —————————————— Oh good lord, you are so good!!! It was all so rosy, once upon a time. Speaking from experience, and my own interpretation the grass was never greener than my own backyard. So good on you, icebox. |
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icebox Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 4383in the shadows |
Thank you for the gift of your time. You have been very kind to me, always. I hope all is well with you. |
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ethome Member Patricius
since 2000-05-14
Posts 11858New Brunswick Canada |
I discern some sarcasm over the commercial play down of this revered saint. However, maybe love can come as close to epilepsy as anything else in some cases... Is that good or bad only love knows I certainly loved these lines, "in my own private class war never realizing there would come a time when I would have not more than all I had consumed." I enjoyed the read... Eric true love never looks after it's own interests |
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