smoke curled eastward, rising through rose petals
legs in wet grass, sun after the rain
the sacred red morning sun is uplifted on wings
distant flames we remember, when we're drunk in the night
you see your name written in the stars, perfectly in place
sanctified in the darkest of days
each vision is a verse in the fading memory of time
down the path of heartbreak our misfortunate dreams entwine
lingering lilac lullaby when my heart sings
I see myself with you in Heaven
falling through you like sand, like glass, like a river
you talk about things so much, they don't even matter
you pray for the sun when the sky is getting darker
figure 8, sun signature
bowed down Cupid and drank the fountain of youth
but now your skin is growing old with your wings
I see it on your visage, I pity your self-righteousness
solace pulled like sinew from your mind
heliotropes peeled from the floral wall dressed in secrets
my mother was a seamstress, my father was a sailor
and through all the hills of my land
I look for them in you
I come back to you like a ferocious wave, like candle wick
the dog licks its paws
what a bumbling farce to think, to think
you see your name written in the stars, perfectly in place
sanctified in the darkest of days
each vision is a verse in the fading memory of time
down the path of heartbreak our misfortunate dreams entwine
lingering lilac lullaby when my heart sings
I see myself with you in Heaven
falling through you like sand, like glass, like a river.
- Author: Jordan Cash (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: April 11th, 2022 18:18
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 33
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek, jarcher54
Comments2
Lovely.
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33333
JD, this may be your most haunting and coherently complex journey yet. Every line, every image, sparks with extravagant yet well-tempered imagery. You made my week... may I post this (with credit) on our work feed where people post poetry? This is moving, creative, beautiful, and sincere...
You own anything I say. My words belong to anyone who cares to read.. My man, life is crystal clear and dented. Imagine yourself at night, at the traffic lights, and feel that pulsating instinct, that drive to live. I wouldn't say this is the best of me, just a piece I was compelled to post. Words in my draft. Recently I've been looking back at all the naïve things I wrote when I was, maybe more so loving and thoughtful, and want to express kindness in my poems. Sending you much love.
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