I cotton to you
under Life's x-ray
displaying vulnerable edges
in numerous seeds
Pulling so gingerly,
an attached energy
willed into voids of
impoverished emotions
My integrated intentions
segregate in your spindle
rotating so carelessly
in irrelevant blood lines
Tainted fingertips
marring wombs of perfection
in palm shadowed victories
of self proclaimed saints
Wear my threads
loosely upon spider veins
they share your hollow
but my core, reseeds
Author notes
Cotton Blued
Written August 19th, 2007
In a list
Comments
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You probably meant to say, "receeds," right?
This is a very complex poem that I'm sorry to say I couldn't follow at all. It's as if the poet is schizophrenic, which I hope is not your case. -
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No, I meant reseeds, the metaphor is cotton, which has a seed
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ah vulnerable needs, seed the edges as the fascination of life pushes againt the grain, reay to explode brand new existence in the mind's complex fields. a good poem.
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The opening line of this finely crafted poem, forced me to read it thrice, and then a fourth time... that was just the first line.
The next line flashes before my eyes in an instant. And oh the "seeds".
Your second stanza is a poem of and unto itself.
"My integrated intentions
segregate in your spindle
rotating so carelessly
in irrelevant blood lines"
Yes, yes… I feel these words. I feel this poem. Outstanding work you’ve written here poet. Thank you for this stunning entry, I am filled. The very best to you in this challenge.
Much Love & Respect ♥
Renee
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