This was so very sad my friend. Pain of the heart affects us all in different ways, but we do have one thing in common, regardless of how it hurts, it still hurts. Your poem tonight reveals this pain in a surreal way, falling as blood from fingertips, dying like a cut flower, pain. I can feel it in your words and I understand.
Posted 11 Years Ago
11 Years Ago
Thank you, my friend. Your words are always a bright light at the end of a dark tunnel :)
This is creative and fascinating how you portray the sudden awakening of the subject, when she realizes she has been wasting her time and precious love on such an individual and accordingly sends him packing, along with his true character pedigree !
'and now you know how it feels --
and now you understand why flowers begin to die
as soon as they are cut,
no matter how many chemicals
you add to the water'
A heartfelt write, so fitting to the nostalgic feeling of regret.
No matter how many times we swear we'll never do it again - we still do.
You can make anything beautiful. Great write, my friend.
Posted 11 Years Ago
11 Years Ago
Yes we do...beyond all judgement. Thank you, Lola!
Once again you've done well in expressing with cunning the lessons that we learn in life, and sometimes how it takes many mistakes, or misinterpretations to finally understand fully those same lessons. It's not always a clear path to evolution but a passage over unforgiving country, like traversing ledges on the side of a mountain, painfully and frightfully fighting to reach the summit. You are right though, some flowers have thorns and others fall limp before they can be truly appreciated, but it's not the flowers fault that it is beautiful, only that it was grown in a false garden, like a paper mache display in Walmart, cheap and uninspired. Beautiful thoughts drip from your pen, like 'god-nectar' and leave haunting impressions like 'Ghosts in white dresses' upon the mind.
Posted 11 Years Ago
11 Years Ago
You are so sweet, my friend. I am so glad to be able to touch you with my work.
11 Years Ago
It is always a treat, to be touched so gently yet feel so firmly the design of your artistic finger.
"and now you know how it feels --
and now you understand why flowers begin to die
as soon as they are cut,
no matter how many chemicals
you add to the water"
The degree in which you are able to touch your reader, is staggering. This stirs me in ways I cannot define. So, so beautiful, Sarah.
Posted 11 Years Ago
11 Years Ago
Thank you so very much, Kelly. I love your writing as well, and am so touched by much of your work,.. read moreThank you so very much, Kelly. I love your writing as well, and am so touched by much of your work, so your words humble me.
So much cannot be undone no matter how we try. We are the sum of our mistakes and sometimes we revisit those moments and just shake our heads at our follies.
Posted 11 Years Ago
11 Years Ago
True words...thank you so much for the time in reading and reviewing. I so appreciate it!
This struck me as the dark side of coming of age...it's a notion that gets romanticized a lot...we may grow older and wiser, but the older always outlives the wiser in the end, and at some point we just start getting old as the wisdom retracts...you have an incredible knack for giving beautiful words to sad realities...great work my friend.
Posted 11 Years Ago
11 Years Ago
Thank you, my friend...I just can't seem to get away from "sad realities". Funny you mentioned this.. read moreThank you, my friend...I just can't seem to get away from "sad realities". Funny you mentioned this, because I am currently working on a piece about "reality" and "perception", and I have to say it isn't all flowers and garden gnomes lol
11 Years Ago
That's the poet's syndrome my dear...if we don't bring those realities to light and acknowledge them.. read moreThat's the poet's syndrome my dear...if we don't bring those realities to light and acknowledge them, who will? I am sure you will wow me with this forthcoming piece as you always do...it sounds like heavy stuff haha :)
"She's mad but she's magic. There's no lie in her fire." - Charles Bukowski
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