From Genesis to Dartmoor

aDarkerMind

from Genesis to the ending day,

the skin of stone lays heavy on the soil.

dog-tailed and tagged, skinny as a fig.

no birds of song to fuel my Winters sleep.

 

through the eye-balls of the pine, old as wheat,

grows silence through the hands of genocide.

they have lost their shape; the muddle and the rose.

their eye-lids stacked as stair-case to my tongue;

 

from brightness to the dark side of the fruit.

in foreign voice I crawl between the curtains of reprieve.

hanging shapeless with the hero and the twitch,

our shadows hanging taller than our souls;

 

from man to neophyte. paper thin and rusting.

the laughing gas grinds heavy on my lungs.

too old to laugh. too young to scribble notes as others do.

too old to bark and bitch as lovers do;

 

from Genesis to Dartmoor.

draped in grass by the written words of Plath.

still haunted by her pages from her heart.

let my gold mouth cry,

let me loose among the pheasants and balloons.

let me kiss you,

and I will show you how important you really are;

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  • Author: Melvin James (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 4th, 2023 06:28
  • Comment from author about the poem: for Sylvia Plath
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 5
  • Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, L. B. Mek
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Comments +

Comments2

  • Teddy.15

    An extraordinary piece that made me want to weep. 💖 welcome back my dear friend.

    • aDarkerMind

      good to be back Teddy, and thank you.
      and how I missed this world of poetry;
      I fell in love with Sylvia Plath many years ago...
      she took her own life many years ago, and but for her, well....who knows;
      friends for always, come rain or shine xx

    • L. B. Mek

      '“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.”
      from the Bell Jar
      'from brightness to the dark side of the fruit.
      in foreign voice I crawl between the curtains of reprieve.
      hanging shapeless with the hero and the twitch,
      our shadows hanging taller than our souls;'
      you ASTOUND, cherished Poet
      (I gladly bow to your superior talent)
      thank you!

      • aDarkerMind

        you are most kind, as always; and thank you too L B Mek.



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