On the latticework, spoke to me
As I knelt in the deep black dirt, adoring them.
They said, behold the spitting clouds.
You cannot stitch them, you cannot
Make a wedding dress or a shroud from them,
They are beyond that.
There are things dark roses do,
Practices they keep, that leave
A girl such as me bitter.
This is what I told them.
The dark roses that crowded, tangled,
Around my body, within my mind,
Choking off all rivals, all future,
All breath,
Laughed at me, and were still beautiful
Even down to their hateful thorns.
I offered, to the leaden sky's face,
To become a bird just to vex them,
But my dark roses only relented enough
To tell me that I am pale, paper-skinned
And bloodless, as doomed as happiness,
Not even worth tears.
Here is the truth I learnt and then poisoned myself with:
My dark roses are flawlessly formed,
Vicious and unforgettable,
As soft and compassionless as worms.
Every line of this is perfect. Dark and beautiful.
ReplyDeleteCold wind from the blue beyond couldn't freeze the heart more than these words. Second stanza esp. is exquisite imagery. In this case, the language of flowers seems more harsh than quaint.
ReplyDelete(Tom does a good version of my favorite Joni Mitchell song, too.)
as soft and compassionate as worms...dang...also liked as doomed as happiness...
ReplyDeletehey we both got roses on the brain tonight...
hot write shay...
and you do matter...
thank you for sharing and for Tom Rush!
ReplyDeleteAloha from Honolulu
Comfort Spiral
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As lyrically lovely as the black rose I grew one magical year. It later turned deep lavender, but for that one, bleak year I had my dark rose. xoxo
ReplyDeletei LOVE your dark poems... LOVE "The Greeting"... LOVE the Mucha print {i have it in my sidebar} ~ roses are always treacherous with their nasty thorns no matter what their color. ♥
ReplyDeleteI always said worms were compassionless
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, especially that last line.
ReplyDeleteWant to see some gorgeous dark roses? Check out the art of the amazing Angela Simione. Here are her "Worry Roses:" http://angelasimione.blogspot.com/2008/03/worry-roses-for-myself-for-my-father.html
You had me with the opening lines, "And bloodless, as doomed as happiness,
ReplyDeleteNot even worth tears."
"doomed as happiness" is marvelous, but so accurate. We don't keep happiness; it has to fly freely into lives and then fly freely out of lives. Thanks for the poem and the music:~)
Guess what? You've received an award:~) Stop by A sharing Connection and pick it up when you can.
This blogging award is a bit different than the usual "mememe" awards. I found it very challenging. It is also well-deserved.
I'm a visual being and you had me with the picture of you sitting, dark, and foot atop the statued dog.
ReplyDeleteOh and your death defying 'Dark Roses' piece was typically, Wonderful.
dark magic!
ReplyDeleteDoomed. Very dark, but cool.
ReplyDeleteDark and edgy.. I like dark roses flawlessly formed ~
ReplyDeleteInner demons perhaps, but a rose by any other name...
ReplyDeleteDeep within the gothic milieu, the human heart is evident, with all its pain and fortitude. I loved the reference to the clouds, and sewing them into gowns or shrouds.. that really set the tone for me.
ReplyDeleteLovely ending, dark rose. :)
ReplyDeleteThese are my favorites:
"There are things dark roses do,
Practices they keep, that leave
A girl such as me bitter."
"The dark roses that crowded, tangled,
Around my body, within my mind,"
"Laughed at me, and were still beautiful
Even down to their hateful thorns."