That was the day we freed the flowers.
you said they would fly
through the crack
between night and day,
float on ancient voices,
preserved in watered silk,
hold hands with infant stars,
and trace the bulge of the horizon.
we found them glass slippers
and glowing satin wings,
they slid down early sunbeams,
and stretched their arms to touch
the moon’s waxen cheek;
they talked to eagle patriarchs,
cursed with the black necked cranes,
shuffled in and out of time,
drank rainbows through straws
of marmalade haze.
And then one day, they came back.
came back to the shackles of the
slimy green pond,
to the angst of the hump-backed frog,
back to the frozen view
of a decaying tomorrow.
we saw them, they said,
the dead, the graves, the coffins, the pyres,
from the clouds, they look so little,
like all the children had died at once,
and they were leaving,
with no beauty, no scent, no touch of silk,
to carry with them into the endless night,
they were leaving alone
with no calligraphed petals,
no satin wings,
to escape into the light;
chain our feet tight so we can persist,
we’ve come back to bear your dead.
I love this poem!
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Thank you TioStib, glad you enjoyed it!!
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Very interesting tale, more like a dream…I saw associations with “Flowers for Ida” by Andersen about dancing flowers, then – with Willy-Wonka – when you’re talking about drinking from rainbow thru the straw…..but something unique here – returning back, as telling us that freedom has to be filled with a purpose – ‘we’ve come back to bear your dead. ‘ ~ Inspiring poem.
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Thank you, am unfamiliar with both those references,but now will surely look them up! Glad you liked the poem.
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My heart is deeply touched by this poem, the words stir ancient pain yet inspire with the miracle of beauty. I am awed by your magic.
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Thanks TioStib, appreciate your support greatly.
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For me, there is a sense of loss/lost … not knowing which direction to go in … except – possibly – backwards. Beautifully sketched images … in an intensely rendered thought provoking piece.
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Thanks for your kind comment Wendy.
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a really terrific write, slime is where slime should be and images are well wrought
have a good week
much love…
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Thank you Gillena
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I’ve read this twice over and I’m still wondering what inspired you to write it. What was the motivation of this poem? I get hints that it has something to do with feeling like we are imprisoned with no way to escape except through death. Just curious what you meant by these wonderful words in this poem.
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Not quite sure Kenn:) I think it is reflective of the idea that flowers or people..we are tethered to our pasts and will be defined by them no matter how far we stray. But the journey can still have its beautiful moments in the ever changing now. …does that make sense? Thanks so much..appreciate your trying to parse the poem.
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a truly magical poem of a dystopian world
this reminds me of the harsh realities faced after the euphoria when a revolution succeeds in creating a new nation. that much from your title, and the strong imagery. 🙂
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Thank you…your interpretation of the poem is really interesting…delighted!
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Incredible poem – haunting. It took hold of me from the first line and still holds tightly.
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Thanks so much
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The imagery in this poem is delightful to read…..visually lovely and thought-provoking too….”we have come to bear your dead”…….and I like the image from space, the graves looking so little.
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Thanks Sherry 🙂
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All I can say is this is fabulous…such a powerful poem in imagery and feelings it elicits! Well done.
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Thank you Donna, glad you liked it.
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The beginning sets the mood for something ethereal and wonderful at once. The beauty of your verse lies in its dire honesty and the imagery that breathes. 🙂
-HA
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Thanks so much Anmol 🙂
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Thank you, thank you! How I love that the first part of the poem makes me know what they will do for the dead–and for the living. How totally loving. I am going to hold onto this poem in my memory!
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Am so glad it conveyed a positive message to you Susan..thank you 🙂
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that last part is really dark and hard.. thoughtfully put together.
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Thank you Natasa 🙂
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This depthful, thought-provoking poem is filled with beautiful metphors and wonderful images!
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Thanks Mary 🙂
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you have soared high ‘with the eagle patriarchs’ here – to comment further would feel like ‘the angst of the hump-backed frog’. Seriously sensational poem.
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Thank you Laura, that’s very kind.
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not really being kind but rather overawed!
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Freedom can be a double edged sword as the saying goes. i love the magical imagery – the opening line is divine…and how i wish all freed flowers could keep on flying
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Thanks so much Jae Rose
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A stunningly beautiful poem.
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Thanks so much. Glad you liked it.
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to the angst of the hump-backed frog,
back to the frozen view
of a decaying tomorrow.
Such a powerful write 🙂
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Thanks Sanaa 🙂
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How come that darkness and pain can be so beautiful? Especially the beginning of the last stanza spoke to me, it brings pictures from news into the hearts and our souls.
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Thanks Bjorn…appreciate your comment very much.
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Dystopic, but beautifully so. As spectator, the poem of necessity has to allow children – and beauty, and scent – to die. As participant, it has no choice but to raise them back from the dead.
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Thank you… the beginning of a long winter in dystopia! Am not sure I know where this poem came from….
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Not knowing where our poems come from is part of what compels us to keep at it.
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Hope so.. until one summons the courage to say the one thing they want to and then the muse will disappear forever, so maybe this dystopic ignorance is fertile ground.. 🙂
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back to the frozen view
of a decaying tomorrow.
Sometimes one can’t help but be faced with bad options even with good intentions. A day that can be all wrong and complicated. Great lines Thot!
Hank
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Thanks for stopping by Hank. 🙂
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