The anonymousness

an untimely mistake

The anonymousness, ambiguity of the
Flowers on your second story porch
Baffled you to eagerness until their origin was
Divulged and like crystal you shone in a thousand
Directions; cascaded through the atmosphere in a thousand
Colours, still you attempt to extract yourself from dusk
And noon; mid-night and dawn
And the dew that’s sprawn along your lawn.

How clever I believed I was,
Yellows for the hair that you constantly
Negate into some lesser beauty;
Red for the dress that was meant for him
But more was felt loved died born handicapped
Risen again from optical ashes to catch you posed
So meticulous it had to be coincidence.

I was prepared to lose finger
Or take fang from the canine guard,
Though there was none. You had locked him inside.
Still…the flowers were placed in a cappuccino bottle
Bought for the sole purpose of water retention,
Guzzled-gulped-spilled thoroughly over my shirt,
Rinsed-filled-placed{
Several times. Taking a step this way
Walking with my head slightly lowered,
Jogging to answer the phone.}
So the display was visual.

Yeah. It was the ambiguity that felt soft and nostalgic
The unknown-known, the guardian angel;
Now I’ve only left you yellow and red
The rest you collect from waking
Walking living, loving (redyellowboy?never) to bed.

Reviews

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~ wow... a poignant story emerges from these words... but the word play is so astounding... and the imagery unravels so amazingly well... that i almost feel the narrator is better off without this person who was not appreciative... (i hope she turns into someone who is appreciative)... what a creative and sensitive soul he seems to be... (he's very obviously a genius, if you ask me)... oh, and the use of colour is excellent too... and... "So meticulous it had to be coincidence." is my favourite thought in this piece... i shall be reading more of your work... for sure...