Nautical

A Boy With Roses

Bridges collapse into rivers below                                                                                

Cataracts waltz into the slumbering cold                                                                          

The earth compass through waves of destructions                                                      

Born with no shield, raised to be knights                                                                          

We drink from our cuts, milky goodness seeping into                                                          

The furnace plagued with nightmares                                                                                    

A room full of stars, love and weakness                                                                          

Love and kindness                                                                                                                

Fifty dwelling spirits from the seed of Nereus                                                                        

In a sea birth the white flesh of a scar glitters like a dream                                            

Clouds drifting in the empyrean gazing

 

My eyes lock onto the clear blue sky                                                                                    

Like a spell                                                                                                                            

Like the clouds are a painting                                                                                              

And in this twilight of endless beauty                                                                                    

I am a boy blossoming in a rose garden                                                                          

Boy becoming man                                                                                                        

Noble in the blue mountains, rose petals are falling                          

We restore and polish the ruins of our dreams                                                            

Violins before they were forgotten                                                                                          

Poets before they were forgotten

 

Alone in the vast emptiness of green wilderness                                                    

Looking up at the sky and losing myself in that impossible                                        

Pool of cool blue                                                                                                              

The sounds of birds tweeting                                                                                      

Ripples burning in lakes                                                                                      

Curiosity when it gets the best of me                                                                                

The leaves when they start to crisp and the berries get redder                                

People when they are kind                                                                                                    

The sweetness of fruit when the taste lingers                                                              

Solace in remote areas when my aching voice echoes                                                    

Soft oranges and industrial grey nights                                                                

When it's raining softly and I feel the cold wind                                                        

Blowing on my skin.

  • Author: Jordan Cash (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: November 4th, 2021 18:13
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 22
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Comments +

Comments1

  • jarcher54

    I truly love "born with no shield, raised to be knights." So much said in so few words. It means something to everyone, and says exactly what you mean. Thanks. BTW, why the change in nickname? I like it! Blatantly positive, but full of possibilities!

    • A Boy With Roses

      Thank you, Jarcher. Regarding the change of name, I had been posting on here for nearly two years under Idlepoet. And I still can be idle for sure, but blue sparkle felt like a natural shift. The name has a certain beauty to it that I admire, considering I do see a lot of my poetry as blue and sparkling, so it just fit.



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