Datura

Poem regarding an evil mistress

in the morning
when the sun is rising
the trumpets twist and shut
against the dust and the daylight
enclosing that most precious part
that most useful part
that part which entered turns to fruit
sleeping within that soft white vortex
until hermes rests again

poisonous fruit
spiny and hideously beautiful
brazen and obviously evil
I sink down to my knees and look
I focus with my good eye
the sun is setting over los angeles
there is fire and smoke as you go west
she is bedding down now somewhere
but I hardly ever think about it

I met a guy
who once drank her in
who tasted her psychotic flavor
lips were laced with wild delirium
but it wasn't me who took that dance
I'm glad I wasn't the one
who walked into the showroom of a car lot
and ordered a vegetarian pizza
this is just the kind of thing she likes

she's a bad one
come rain or shine
I wouldn't walk her 'cross the street
but I think about her sometimes
she's just a shadow of a habit I had once
vestigial, and useless
and this afternoon I'm kneeling
I'm helping the flora tuck itself in
and watching the hills burn

Author's Note

I wrote this for the Trifecta Writing Challenge. Check them out at www.trifectawritingchallenge.com if you decide you want to play.

Reviews

[RainQueen]

Congratulations on the win!!! You richly deserved it. This poem is absolutely lush.

"I met a guy
who once drank her in
who tasted her psychotic flavor
lips were laced with wild delirium"

Your words describe relief at a near miss. But maybe, hidden deep underneath, the tiniest longing. Complex and delicious.

[Rose of Gondor]

This is dark and wonderful. I don't often get hooked by poems, but the first sentence of this poem grabbed me.

[Muse]

This poem made me think of Tori Amos song...don't know why.... it just did. :)

It's titled Datura, lol:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y-NLCfPAXIE

Your poem, much like the song, paints the image of how a beautiful flower such as the Datura can go bad. A Siren that burns like the sun, and has poison in her kiss. A shadow of habit? Perhaps she's just a flower that can only bloom in the dark.