There was a sign: "No Trespassing Hearts"
stamped on my forehead. I breathed it
on smoke-crusted tongue, wore warnings
on my eyelids, made hexes with hands,
and donned explicitly labeled T-shirts.
It should have warned even the boldest
not to approach me with flowers,
nubby chocolates, or even poems.
I was a rusted case, un-oiled, unhinged,
and denying my worst need.
Came a kiss that lipped away the sign;
a sip of heady wine to sweetened my breath,
a beautiful man who scraped the scorn from eyes,
a man who undressed me, emotion by emotion.
He brought not roses, but thorny thistle.
He fed me grapes and wrote music to my lyrics.
He lubricated the lid until it opened
and then closed way too easily.
He desired the quest for treasures
my soul did not hold. I bore down
and birthed him a new life. I carry
his name like a dead child
who drank my poisoned kindness.
The sign was crumpled, but I pulled it
from his gluttony grab and planted it
over the grave I was about to fill.
Author notes
'Wise enough to know better but it ain't going to stop me' ...I never learn from other's mistakes...I have to learn from my own...
jpg - Kurennoy Andrey
In a list
A contest entry
- Write to the Prompt and I'll Reward You by Cannonsfire.
850 points, ended January 1, 2008, 22 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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This is just astonishing in its emotional power, with the strongly visual progression, and then that ending, pow! Congratulations on the bronze!
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ty mallig, sorrow is a strange, strange thing.
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This is packed with an emotion than only the owner can know for they have lived it, every skerrick of it whether pain or joy, you can feel it all within this. Love, C
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I have never loved anything more...nor longer, nor hurt myself on such as him ever before or since.
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I bore down
and birthed him a new life. I carry
his name like a dead child
who drank my poisoned kindness.
The sign was crumpled, but I pulled it
from his gluttony grab and planted it
over the grave I was about to fill.
What an ending to an emotion packed piece.
I love it!
Becky
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ty, friend, for your comments...it is true emotion that comes from that very hurt place.
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"He desired the quest for treasures
my soul did not hold. I bore down
and birthed him a new life. I carry
his name like a dead child
who drank my poisoned kindness.
The sign was crumpled, but I pulled it
from his gluttony grab and planted it
over the grave I was about to fill."
Sheesh...
You sure have been venting wildly & scenting the air with the tempests of Love, my dear Friend. Exquisitely penned...but ohhh, how I wish you peace. Good luck in Chez' contest, Sweetie. 
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I guess it is because I finally answered an email a few days ago and said he could call and he did....awkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk man it hurts still you know..the kidnthat hurts and you know it is a good thing?
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