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Wed 23 Jun, 2010 03:09 pm
I am tired of solitary roses.
Pure red and perfect,
long stemmed and lovely,
cutoff at the ankles,
dressed up for sale and brought home for love,
but left standing in a fashioned vase
on a domesticated table.
Where are the bouquets?
Those wild, dappled darlings,
feet in the earth,
face on the sun,
smiles popping up everywhere
for nothing.
But I also grow weary of petals open to the sun
but closed to the moon.
Horny little beggars
waiting for buzzing bees and butterfly kisses...
Where are those night-blooming daturas
smiling in the moonlight?
Virgin white bells
waiting for chirping chiropteras,
leather-tight wings
and velvet tongues chasing echoes in the night...
@qwertyportne,
Hi Bill !
I'm not sure I would have found this without direction first.
A gem! If I may say so. Makes me want to go and lay on the grass and watch the stars. I find a sense of universal oneness when I do so.
Sever not the remnant
Of a flower's ageing quest
To pretty-up thy parlour's essence
Truthfully undressed
Have a great weekend Bill.
Mark...
A very nicely imaged poem. I look forward to seeing more from you.
@mark noble,
Yes, and I often watch the stars lying on, well, we don't have grass here but a drop cloth or two amd we're fine! Makes me remember a poem I wrote many years ago after an evening of doing exactly that. I initially titled it Outside, then retitled it Somewhere Safe to Sea. I'll post it in this forum. Hope everybody likes it...
--Bill
@edgarblythe,
Thank you for your kind reply. It bothered me that Letty said we have a dearth of poetry here, and would like that to end. I'll post another in this forum in a few minutes in response to what Mark said...
--Bill
@qwertyportne,
Fantastic to have a poet among us again. Loved the gestalt type verse, and then the alliteration brings the notion of a wild rose to life. I like the title of your poem as well qwertyportne. Welcome and never stop your writing. What was your inspiration?
@Letty,
Letty,
My hikes in the desert, where I frequently see Sacred Datura, a flowering plant that in some places is called Indian Apple, Thorn Apple or Jimson Weed. It is quite beautiful, at least to me. Native Americans make a tea from the leaves to "enhance" their vision quests. The name Jimson Weed comes from a story that in the Revolutionary War, soldiers made a tea from the plant but didn't realize how dangerous it can be. Some died from an over dose. I have a bit of Choctaw in my blood and have always been intrigued by the native American, what, philosophy? So I feel some identification with the plant and its history. My walks also tend to make me identify with wild flowers more than store-bought ones. I'll post a poem called Weeds that probably inspired me to write Night Blooms. Can't remember for sure. Thanks for your kind comments.
--Bill
@qwertyportne,
Mark,
Thought I posted Somewhere Safe to Sea in the Poetry forum but discovered that it is in the Original Writing forum. Not sure how that happened because I started in the Poetry forum. Sorry...
http://able2know.org/topic/153650-1
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