here is paint box
where my shadows lurk
shaped of black candles & stiff
broken wings
i put on the gloves of
anger & sadness within me
this hard seed of hurt
is deeply rooted, rimming
brimming my wildflowers to rot
i risk it all out in the canvas
altar of regrets
dry rust of barren earth
prickled words wombed from streets-
f__k this stupid shit!
the bloom of my skin turn
to knots
to twisted violet
until the violent wind dies within me
pale & half-apologetic
this mirror of myself
a burnt pendant moon
a wintered darkness
i own it,
& learn to live with it
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics, Taking a Risk by guest Host, Tricia Sankey. Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST. Thanks for your comments.
'I own it' ... there is so much depth in this piece Grace. So much.
ReplyDeleteI love what you did here... the image of letting the flower rot, and how you express it with the darker blocks of the paintbox.
ReplyDeleteTo see the darkness and own it, that is probably the only way.
'this hard seed of hurt' is a striking image. When hurt hardens into resentment it can be very painful to live with. I love the assonance and alliteration of
ReplyDelete'to twisted violet
until the violent wind dies within me'
I feel that certain ghosts are being laid to rest in this poem.
"i risk it all out in the canvas
ReplyDeletealtar of regrets"
so powerful and honest.
your conclusion of acceptance after acknowledgement is touching and wise.
Grace,
ReplyDelete"i risk it all out in the canvas/altar of regrets": the sense of returning daringly, compulsively to fulfill a dark need to expose darkness rather than hide it, this is so wonderfully portrayed here.
pax,
dora
"i risk it all out in the canvas/altar of regrets/dry rust of barren earth/prickled words wombed from streets,".. this is incredibly deep and poignant. Gorgeous depiction of how it is when taking risks, Grace!💝💝
ReplyDeleteThis was painful to read. It is good that you have your paintbox and tools to channel the "inner hard seed of hurt". A beautifully touching poem.
ReplyDeletePowerful and heartfelt imagery. "this mirror of myself
ReplyDeletea burnt pendant moon" resonates. I think at a certain age we do tend to own it. 👏👏
I feel this was cathartic for you to write. You have exorcised some demons here and I absolutely love this ...
ReplyDelete"i risk it all out in the canvas
altar of regrets
dry rust of barren earth
prickled words wombed from streets-
f__k this stupid shit!"
☺️💕
the hard seed of hurt needs not to be propergated! thought provoking and wonderful
ReplyDeleteI'm feeling it right along with you, Grace; esp liked (?) the hard seeds and rotting wildflowers stanza. Great stuff.
ReplyDelete“shaped of black candles & stiff
ReplyDeletebroken wings“
Right about here, I sat up straight, knowing this was going to be mighty intense. You always deliver, deep and hard. You are such a powerful, glittering, fragrant writer.
'prickled words wombed from streets' This line stood out for me.
ReplyDeleteA profound piece of writing with depth and wonderful imagery.
The burnt pendant moon-unique and never-changing. Love all the unaltered imagery in your poem.
ReplyDeletea wintered darkness
ReplyDeletei own it,
& learn to live with it
Love the close Grace! It takes courage to own up to delimiting nuances of oneself but it provides good ingredients for improvement.
Hank
as visceral a pen from your hands as I've seen, Grace. direct to the vitals ~
ReplyDeleteWow, Grace. This is so powerful. It really feels to me like looking at a slice of your mind.
ReplyDeleteYours,
David
such a visceral image of anger--we do need to own it if we are ever to let it go.
ReplyDeleteThis is a poignant piece. :)
ReplyDeleteThis jumps right in which such a great image: paint box
ReplyDeletewhere my shadows lurk
Anger born of frustration seeded by sorrow is an indigo of emotion — I felt you transitioning to that depth in this piece Grace. Very strong and so well written.
ReplyDelete'this hard seed of hurt', 'until the violent wind dies within me' and 'I own it' are what strike me most. Maybe it's been my mood of late or maybe I'm of a maturity to finally own my own, but genuinely feel this thought provoking write.
ReplyDeleteThis hurt, this mirror, this darkness - this canvas on which to spill it all. I read the use of it, I admire it, I found myself wishing for it to be unburdening, even healing.
ReplyDeleteIt is so important to have an outlet for our difficult emotions and feelings. Well done Grace!
ReplyDeletethe freedom and bravery in your last stanza are palpable. the details are vivid, Grace. so good.
ReplyDelete