As I Lay Dying

A Boy With Roses

The fields remind me of a Van Gogh painting                                  

A submersion, an impression, a watercolour remembrance                          

A balloon on a string with the way your body moves                                                  

A blight, a stain on love 

 

Yes, they do. Yes, they do

 

So I say these things out loud, miraculous butterflies of hope                                      

A bicycle on the hill by the overgrown forest                                                          

Where I was bleeding my swan song in a photograph of autumn                                  

Looking through the blinds                                                                                          

A suicide hazard in a naked cafe, words melt on your ice-cream tongue                      

Little mirrors, little oceans, little shadows

 

A boy in a dream                                                                                                                      

A boy in a dream of Africa  

 

He can teach me, teach me how to be a charming man                                          

But he can't teach me how to be a poet, how to understand                                        

The words flowing from my heart 

 

6 a.m. my tired eyes spring open to the calm lull of morning traffic                                                                                                              

Birds singing songs of heartbreak by pale blue skies                                                              

Close your eyes and open them to surprise                                                                                  

A crumbling heart that can't be fortified, cries                                                                

When the room is blue and I long for the touch of you                                        

Circumstantial pollution, the world that never bloomed 

 

We open our mouths to summer                                                                                                                              

Tie ourselves together with hope                                                                                              

Poppy meadows and doublespoons                                                                    

Shoreweed and moth fountains of soft chalk                                                                        

Soft earth, looking at each other as we lay dying                                                              

As I lay dying

  • Author: Jordan Cash (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 6th, 2022 17:48
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 43
  • Users favorite of this poem: jarcher54
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Comments +

Comments1

  • jarcher54

    You often sing songs of heartbreak... I'll reread this one later. It's full of moving images, your gift of combining the unexpected into intriguing, coded messages! Missed you my complicated songbird!

    • A Boy With Roses

      <
      3
      nice to hear from you, lovely comment
      ty x



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