To be a romantic is to dream. Love is often that impossible dream. Jacob, your poem while edgy with sadness, reminds me of: "to dream the impossible dream, to fight the unbeatable foe, to bear with unbearable sorrow, to run where the brave dare not go..... to reach the unreachable star...." Though in your poem, it would be to hold the alive rose in our hands and fear not the blood running down our arms from its thorns. In today's world, as hard as we try, and in spite of a gumshoe, Love often remains an illusion.
Curt
Posted 2 Months Ago
2 Months Ago
Thank you for your insightful words, my poet friend.
j.
dear Jacob... imagining the Roses in our Hands... the Bosom of Love is possible... However, the Battle is still raging and we are still vulnerable.
The Sun may come out Tomorrow will be our Prayer. softly, Pat
Posted 2 Months Ago
2 Months Ago
Annie sings that it might...I am not so sure.
Thanks, Pat,
j.
Has the sound of a relationship in trouble. The floral imagery is what is seen on the surface, but down deep things are shaky. When the truth is outed by that gumshoe sun, things may go south pretty quickly.
Posted 2 Months Ago
2 Months Ago
Down deep, with some investigating....yes, maybe shaky is a good way to describe.
j.
Originally from Bronx, NY, I live in Carbondale, Illinois...teach English at a community college and have been writing and publishing poetry since 1970. I am here to read for inspiration from other po.. more..