Desert Lily

Rain down, rain down Come on rain down on me From a great height

Dreams are the soul's illustration.

an abstract reflection

blossoming mind meadows

and bathing

quintessence. 

Mine are anchored bold in tides

of baritone hues

Canvas crippled

heart sunk in the 

blues.

The rawest reality

,for me,

is breathing broken bells-

painting my bones in perpetual dusk;

mind untamed by volumes of silence

and moment's unnamed... 

It is the echo of voices fading across time

mellowed by the tundra of lips who only ever said,

 "Goodbye."

Time and tears eroded canyons of doubt between us

Illustrated by the mind's mad cursive

Oh, those fallacies of love

That we, as doll-eyed desert lilies,

 might dream again...

The storm of waking met thunderous dissent. 

As a better past adopted the illusion we crafted,

In dusty rose and marigold, our canvas was bold;

and starved...

Aching with natural blues which never dried. 

But we tried.

I swallowed fiction trying to find you,

to let me love you.

As you dropped eviction notices in my wishing well,

I listened to Dylan and watched as my effort,

foiled and fell. 

In nostalgia, 

Goodbyes echo through empty eons,

like lights in the sky burning out

as razor-tipped lips cut convictions from dawn,

burnt sienna kisses were not shared,

but drawn. 

This was farewell, 

a temporal storm

faded and abstract by a thousand resurrections 

ego-nude in solitude, consciousness expanding;

my breath a cosmic wind through willow's leaves transcending-

it all makes sense in The End. 

Reviews

[Perdition]

There are moments in this when the colors distract from your intent…perhaps a necessity or perhaps a reckoning but this one begins and ends for me with the "doll-eyed desert lilies" stanza. The way you pull in and out of such harsh streams..reality to image to flowery tones is like making love to a razor. Feels sorta kinda wrong and right and like a death-wish but all the while coming to peace with your denials (it was this..it is that) and goodbye…knowing that there is no peace in your nightly moment. Probably not for a long time. BUT at least you are using your soul to pound at the door where most fear to even tap, they simply turn, walk away; forever left with a boiling bitter taste…Yep..definitely a reckoning. Thanks as always ~

[Kristallo]

This was hard to write, I had a lump of grief in my throat the entire time. And strangely, every time I closed my eyes to conjure an image of what I was feeling, the images were flowery and organic. Odd that my mind would invent beauty to express such melancholy, the bitterness of reality... Hmm. Thank you so much for your thoughts, always such a pleasure to hear from you. :)

[Perdition]

Well the garden of healing is filled with what grows from within …so …yeah..A reckoning..lol. A pleasure to read this gift as well.."Now come on..you're all a @#@!$ bunch of slaves!! ": P