Sad-ism (31st January, 2009, 10.15pm)
Dry your tears on your arm.
The wetness burns your
naked sleeve;
this need to make you cry
has been growing inside
like a weed.
The night bleeds into stars,
pricks in the sky;
I see the light as the moisture
in your eyes reflects me.
It feeds; my conscience
twists like a knife in my breast:
I confess a fulfilment,
found in your distress.
Of course, a multitude
of lies lie at your feet;
revenge beats
inside my head, throbs
like a lover thrusts;
I imagined I knew you.
Unprecedented,
your utter defeat;
provocation sought
a friendly fist, met
a solid wall of straw
that I made wet.
Jennifer Pickup
Comments
MistakenMagic | January 31, 2009 - 22:28
I really liked the first stanza;
'Dry your tears on your arm.
The wetness burns your
naked sleeve;
this need to make you cry
has been growing inside
like a weed.'
Some excellent images throughout Jen, loved this one ;)
Magic xxx
Jasper_Milvain | January 31, 2009 - 22:37
This (for me) is one of those pieces that have a strong autobiographical element that procludes a complete understanding.
I certainly enjoyed the imagery and the tone of the piece very much indeed.
Good Stuff
JM
tamara (not verified) | January 31, 2009 - 23:47
Your titles are very cleverly conjured up and the whole piece is beautifully rich in acutely mastered imagery- (I wish it was mine!:) x
artisus | February 1, 2009 - 12:41
Jennifer this is good. I may repost an older poem of mine on the matter and refer to yours as well.
N x