Chairs as dark as bruised plums
Mourn their solitude in the vacant classroom;
Subdued students file in
Through the scent of burnt tar.
You sit next to me with luscious waterfalls of hair
Dyed the complection of tranquil December nights
Framing, shading those bright azure eyes
Transfixed in desert skin dabbed with faint freckles
Pulled taut from the apparition of that imperfect smile.
Words die poetic deaths on my lips,
Dry and fade, tasting sour on my tongue,
If only my shyness;
So brazen in destroying conversation,
Would afford me this one chance.
If rejection spread its bony wingspan
Swept me up in blistering dust
It would be proof, substantial proof
That all my fears and self-doubts
Are actualities.
So, I hide in lavish walls of ignorance
Marigolds, celadons and indigos of bliss
And harness no thoughts of vulnerability;
To mourn my solitude, drip vacant tears
Over patches of skin - dark as bruised plums.
Author notes
Picture prompt #14.
Just because by the time tuesday or thursday rolls around, these are the types of scenes I'd like to be doing with the girl who sat beside me in my university class..
A contest entry
- Prompts for All by quietheather.
750 points, ended October 10, 25 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Firstly, wow. I really love the endless imagery.
Expecially like the third stanza, I've been through something similar, and so to get put back in that situation, just by reading this is quite a powerful talent.
The only criticism I have of this poem is that complexion is spelled wrong, I'm a bit of a spell freak, however, I want to read more of your work now, but I need sleep, so I shall do so tomorrow hopefully :-)
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Very intense imagery. Enjoyed.
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Never mind.
With luck you'll come out at the other end relatively unscathed. -
I liked the immages ..they are very visual and approapriate to the mood of the heart..love it..and many thanks for sharing it..well done...
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