Silver and Saffron

Challenge: Write a poem inspired by a spice. (I chose "saffron.")

I must be clear:

He never touched me

In ways I did not let him.

Yet it always seemed that

He would leave me crushed

And crying out (on the inside)

For him to stop.

His lips would brush mine

In ways that felt forbidden, stolen -

Taken from me unwillingly,

Though I always returned them

However hesitatingly.

Even his hand upon mine

Felt wrong and made me

Weak, ashamed, but…

I never took my hand away.

The red dress in the corner

Was thrown there with reluctance,

But I had never truly protested

Or fought its placement there.

Surely, by not fighting, I said yes?

He gave me silver jewelry,

And acted like a gentleman,

Clasping every necklace for me,

But they hung like nooses.

When he left, I could see

Crushed saffron in his footsteps,

Broken petals who lost their voices

A long time ago.

Author's Note

Picture: http://ictenbey.deviantart.com/art/SILENCE-69243859

Reviews

[Antonio Valentino]

Footsteps of safron? Wow, does he know how much that stuff costs? :)

Like the exotic spice that went to waste, so did the redolence and zest of his mistreated mate. Precious herbs, and savories just like piquant paramours in our lives are delicate, and need to be handled with respect, and a gentle touch.

Being a chef I thought this poem was going to about the actual spice, nevertheless, I wasn't disappointed by the least bit. You're poem was seasoned just right, and simmered to perfection.

Loved it!
Antonio

[GingerPocky]

Powerful. I love the story I form with this.

[Sami Khalil]

The red rose in the corner
was thrown there with reluctance.
Very good description on vulnerability.

[Mockingbird]

i could relate to this poem several times throughout my life, situations leaving me hurt and confused. i like how it's narrative in style. i enjoyed it.

[Seshat Nidaba]

You express vulnerability in a way I find both couragouse and it makes me want to like and know you the person inside, more so than the average author-reading relationship.

Out of the box of your life, and into the frying-pan, you are a genuine writer.

1. Broken petals who lost their voices

You are a master of understatment, a rare device to witness executed properly.

[Tony]

You create a definate mood and a personality to this one-- I enjoyed the whole poem but like I said the personality you give this one is very real.
Outstanding craftsmanship!

[Pax Analog]

This poem would have been powerful even without the spice proviso, but you used that to great effect.

What is especially poignant in this exchange is the woman's soul-desire never syncing w/some surface chemistry and socialization, so that she's observing her yielding as if it is happening to someone else, in pain in spite of apparent propriety.

"He gave me silver jewelry,/And acted like a gentleman,/Clasping every necklace/ for me,/But they hung like nooses./When he left, I could see/Crushed saffron in his footsteps,/Broken petals who lost their voices/A long time ago."

The archetypal ache of this beautiful sad truth lingers long in the heart after reading. Its power is in its depth and range of application. It is one woman, all women, the artist, the soul-ghost in the machine of the global Matrix.

Classic.

[Ruth]

This is absolutely stunning imagery!
I adore this!
Great use of spice too lol
Wonderful work
xx

[Miss Coral]

Powerful, vivid, and excellent written. Especially towards the end, this piece was incredible.. the last three lines are perfect. Great job. c:

[livspen]

Actually you can get saffron dirt cheap in Egypt and certain other countries!
Nice poem

[.]

"He gave me silver jewelry,
And acted like a gentleman,
Clasping every necklace for me,
But they hung like nooses.
When he left, I could see
Crushed saffron in his footsteps,
Broken petals who lost their voices
A long time ago."
god-just love this ending!!!
this is a wonderful poem!!!

james:-)