coming in spurts
when the sun danced around him
and he kissed the stars
and got red roses for her,
which whispered his passion
he wanted her to go now
to leave him be
in his throes of despair
he ignored her unsaid pleas
trampled on the white roses
closed the door to her love
"as soon as she left,
in his vomit of despodency
he knifed his guts out,
watching it colour
his sandy grey floor, red"
25 comments:
wow...
vivid description...
nice free flow and chain of thoughts..
nicely penned...
A drastic ending there. Nice :-)
so many contrasts - wasn't expecting the ending.
Guatami, you've become quite the mistress of shocking, and violent endings. I think back over your oeuvre (of the passed year +) and I wonder what you are telling us. that all things end in violence of some kind, or that all relationships are doomed? or is it that you just like shocking us (and perhaps yourself)?
"vomit of despondency"
"knifed his guts out"
Those are awesome lines. The whole poem is awesome. Vividly awesome
The last lines is awesome!!!
Richard, if you really go through my writing, you will find a balanced mix of poetry on Dark as well as positive ones. Maybe you ended up reading only the dark ones.
I am not here to shock, you, myself or anyone else. I write whater my muse makes me to. Be it dark or otherwise.
Your range of styles never ceases to amaze me. Fantastic piece
a very dark piece here...
nice and thank you for sharing, gautami...
Lovely rhythm. Sad ending. C'est la vie!
Intriguing. I wonder if you're referencing anyone in a movie...
Hard stuff. Impressive words.
Best wishes
Ralf
Hi, awesome poem with unexpected ending.Thank you for sharing.
Hi Gautami,
I have been truant for a long time- here is my take-
Spasms!
She was my friend,
And she asked me,
If I could help her to die,
Believe me- she was not afraid
Of death, but of the pain... if she bled
As she was set
On the path to the Final Object!
So I told her of love
As a way of life, and she smiled
She said, it had died
And then I held her arm and prayed
As I held the blade
To her jugular, and obliged,
The spasms were indeed wild!
not criticizing, but opening a conversation: do you wonder why your muse leads you to graphic violence? it is a particular voice. I often write with the desire to flip a perception, and go for the contradiction, and it often leads me to a darker take on the subject matter than would be obvious. I go that route to see more deeply, and avoid the cliche. (not always successfully.) And. sometimes I enjoy a shocker for dramatic effect. I think violent or surprising endings are a writing strategy, just like when a film maker decides to cut away, or linger on a scene. do you make conscious decisions when you write, or are your poems unedited?
and, I do stand, sit, type corrected. I usually only see your poetry train offerings, and my memory is of some very red meat. I've just looked through the last two months of your regular posts, and they're not bloody at all. But, the questions remain. You are your own muse.
PS: If you don't mind my saying so, I'd reconsider "coming in spurts." Standing it its own line, and even in context with "he, dancing, kissing, whispering" it's the image of orgasm. Unless that's what you actually meant. Of course, it may be my dirty mind...
Oh, and why is the last stanza set off by quotation marks?
tragic when love is not recripicated- heartache wants to kill us now.
I felt the despair.
haunting.
Yikes! I did not see that coming.
b
Vivid, and then wrenching. I agree, there is often shock here in your poems, and sometimes I don't know what to do with it - but that's poetry, isn't it?
Strong piece - a surprising end...
It's interesting that the roses he gives her are red when he is happy but white when he grows depressed. I like thst you switched it up. Red is what I would have expected just before the blood.
strolled well with a pathetic ending. Fine piece.
The Red rose and at the end the red color of death. A very disturbing end of a lover.
Gory!! Whoosh! Me likey! :D
Very vivid. I loved it. (=
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