_Silence of the verse_

Buried alive under darkly jaded poetry

   ink trickled a hideous shade of envy,

 breathe in your words

    and I'm left trembling

             withering on an exhaled vine

there once was a stanza,

    pen'd in rose tinted hues

        used to dance 'tween the lines

               all that remains are metered thorns

           

sonnets darkly etched upon my breast,

    the silence of rhyme

          in regretful wasted time, 

        bled out without a single sound

          leaving behind an empty verse

                     & an embittered love song...

 

Author's Note

Reviews

[redzone]

OUCH, what a heart breaking poem... it bleeds the silence and anger of "all that remains are metered thorns / sonnets darkly etched upon my breast," I love these lines too, " and I'm left trembling / withering on an exhaled vine"... the emptiness that flow through your poem is palpable and leaves the reader feeling betrayed by silence and in need of warmth of loudly "rose painted hues"... And as usual, the music adds a deeper dimension to your words... ok think I will go listen to Mozart's "Requiem" and cheer up some... you always make my heart burn Frieda... and I love you for it
~~redzone

[Woody]

pffff!!! I'm lost for words, Frieda. with each poem you manage to outdo yourself.
absolutely sumptuous!!!!

[Mayank]

Its so melancholic, emotions connected with forms of poetry.

[Rene Salinas]

They say that an abstraction is the desiry to deal with ideas rather than the qualities of the event. Associated with it is a certain freedom then as on one side we can delve freely without having to let anyone know personal feelings. The other it creates like an invisible line around he writing , boundaries which at times serve as fences preventing those who don't relate out. Frieda is letting me know that an even has moved to feel jaded and she wants to cover it with dark words with an emotional content . As she unravells there seems to be a moment of reflection with the more subtle of description. They also turn attractive from a male perspective that is. A bitter taste still left thogh which needs to be redeemed.

Hopefully.

I found this sensual, call me strange now.

Thankyou

[Ashira Macy]

Buried alive under darkly jaded poetry
ink trickled a hideous shade of envy,

I could just feel the sickly green ink dripping onto my skin when I read these lines, what a way to start a poem! Words can hurt so much more than fists sometimes, especially when you are burried under so many bitter lies and personal attacks. And then the person is gone, but the words are still tattooed in your heart and mind forever, tearing at you from the inside. Sad and dark, but I like those kinds of poems.

[Sophy Freebirds]

Ahh Freida i could connect! ! "Jaded"- yes my soul is jaded.. after everything is over al that is left is "embittered songs"... yes i can get into the depths of this poem and never come back cause my bosom is "darkly etched "- with this loss... i will say nothing more, i am just moved .. just silence and a bow will tell everything about this Excellent piece :)

~Sophy

[Kelly Scheppers]

If I brought you some B & J's, you know what, would you smile for me?
I hope this is just your muse, but I do have to say you execute this genre quite well, my dear!

Kelly

[kublakhan27]

Geez, when did you sneak this one in Mrs.R? I'm still trying to catch up on your past ones, and every time I come back you have something new ;) That's a great thing for a poet though...you already know of my affinity for your tireless imagination...in all honesty I probably should have left this one for tomorrow for there's clearly a lot going on here, but you know I can't stay away from a new piece...I detect a metaphor here as it pertains to poetry, the language of love, and the language of angst...that's always been how I've defined it, and I think it may be how you define it too in a subconscious way...you seem to bring them together for this occasion from time to time...there once was a stanza, but when the one you love goes away, you're left with nothing but the formalities, the thorns of the meter...where a gleaming and melodic sonnet once existed, now there is only a silent rhyme, an empty verse...I love the way you take the essence of poetry itself and turn it into its own emotion...that's a Mrs.R trademark for sure, one of many, and here is another in a line of many masterful evocations of love's ups and downs...poignant and brilliant as always love :) xo

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Some great poetic metaphors relating poetry to emotions, nothing can send feeling into a dark place like being betrayed by love.

[Aethereal]

Sometimes we notice something amiss within a relationship. I was inspire to write this tiny mono-rhyme gift poem for you:

A Kiss Amiss

Where’s the rose among her thorns?
Where’s the stag beneath his horns?
Where’s that stanza that adorns?
Are there cheers beneath these scorns?

[Sheila Kline]

When one is left on a bed of thorns rather than a bed of roses, the feeling is painfully raw! Your words are gut wrenching and speak of a deep measure of pathos that leaves one speechless, actually in "Silence".

[Frieda P]

That blaring silence is a tough refrain, we've all been there at one time or another I imagine, thanks so much Shelia. Yep, those thorns smart!