Our Words Are a Chalice

Thorny barbed words that blear my judgment

My self have been given, too.

I find I can hide behind the rain

That beats my skin with ice; halts,

Suns.

 

Condemned roots that travel between the lines

To stroke the words on its edges.

I find I can stain paper with ink and

Make black a chalice, gold; halts,

Syllables.

 

When this child knows no language,

Of austere kisses that have been given life,

I find I can grieve with him, too.

It grates against time; halts,

Tomorrow. 

Reviews

[MOON]

Beautifully written .. black a chalice...

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

Aelia, I like your style, you use the bare minimum of words here but you get your point across. I love the part about staining paper with ink......yes we do and we create......isn't it awesome?

[Octob3r Star]

Simple- straight to the point. Good write

[Daniela May]

so so lovely and simple-in a good way! i really enjoyed it xx

[asdarkeyesclose]

i liked the way you ended each stanza with '; halts' 'Suns/Syllables/Tomorrow'. This is a fine poem, reflecting on words and their meaning but in a sophisticated way, i loved the sad edge in the last stanza. fantastic.

[Me]

This is a beautiful poem.

[Coyote Poetry]

Powerful words and thoughts in the poem. I had to read a few times. Thank you for the excellent poem.
Coyote

[Dark Poetry]

Nicely done

[Becky Clancy]

I like it ^_^b

[Forevermore]

u always have good images, or imagery i mean, this is a great way to express emotions. i like it and look forwards to more of ur works