This touch you seek can but briefest bruise,
for not just clothes yet skin you lose.
Such you bleed so bare;
your heart clutched in a pallid glove.
The red, red rose to russet there,
crumbles down the gelid air.
Settles on the mounded clay unspared,
around the fresh grave dug.
In the killing fields of love.
by NaughtonP
A contest entry
- E.M.O ~ PoEmS xxx && brokenrosessooooofocate by Ryno.
400 points, ended December 8, 2008, 36 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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I see why this has won gold.
Wonderful metaphor...
thanks so much for entering and
best of luck. -
The flow to this poem is refined, the rhyme secondary to the subject. The metaphor is powerful. Congratulations on your well deserved gold.
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You took the cliche to a different level. You added metaphor and deeper messages into it. You made one emotion evident on the top layer of this piece, but below there is so much more emotions and so much more to the situation.
I really liked this, I thought it was very powerful and really voiced something worth voicing. - With that ending more then ever.
Thanks for the entry. -
wow. this is amazing. so truthfully painful.
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Re: Abused
From NaughtonP:
Hello. I entered this in a previous contest recently but believe I placed it wrongly. It's likely the deeper contexts in it weren't appreciated or misunderstood in that contest.
So, having read your own outlines I think it fits well here. Short maybe, but hopefully seen as saying quite a lot. -
beautiful
absolutely stunning. a beautiful piece of work.
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Re: Abused.
Thank you for reading this piece, Mr G. And for paying me such a compliment. Be lucky.
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