How Fickle The Pickled Rose In Its' Orchard Grave

aDarkerMind



how fickle the pickled rose in its' orchard grave

slave to the abandoned eyes through blanket trees

pleasing to the blinkered heart of a superficial heirloom hanging still

six miles shy of a camels' back

once thirsty for the tortutured thorns disfigured gut

that once ripped through the veins of my wrist;

sunshine on the flowered bed where once crept a black lungs bride

guided to the churchyard landfills ever increasing populas of high intense demands

bemused only by the untimely death of my impotent hands

as the glands of the scurrying April rain massage the temples of my brood

with its' nondeclarative passages from the drunken throat of a Sunday morning tramp;

samphire smoke from the vampires' crystal ball

bites through the secret desires of my lust for the rusting clerics' smalls

to satisfy my curiousity - and satisfy once more-

my love for a dead disciples spleen

to pick through the bones of its' deranged and troubled dirt

and when he runs with gay abandon through the sinews of my neck

I will lay beside my one true love

and tell her where it hurts;

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  • Author: Melvin James (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: June 7th, 2021 14:08
  • Category: Love
  • Views: 13
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Comments +

Comments1

  • L. B. Mek

    that's a very striking image on the video 'cover':
    a skeleton, blackened monkey face
    with black gloves and hoody
    all within a black n white video...
    ok, well I hope
    this weaponization of artistry
    gives you the world, you want to curate..
    I kinds feel, dispirited
    once more, at myself
    for choosing to believe
    there's more good than bad
    when the abundance of malicious idiocy
    tells me different, every gruelling step
    of my unwavering climb...
    just sad, on so many levels... really

    • aDarkerMind

      not my finest hour L B Meck, but we can only write with the mind we have at any one time;
      and death does play a large part of our lives.
      sadly, I could'nt get to the hospice in time to say goodbye to someone very dear to me, and was feeling very guilty and angry with myself for not being there with her.
      I thought the video and song matched my write very well, but that's only my opinion.
      I do see the good things in life, I just choose to write about the not so good.
      I have no choice...my mind controls my pen, not my heart;




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