Blood Is The Rose (Terza Rima)

The sightless question, the suspended moon -
the crack of the world is found in the heart -
the binate blessing of bountiful boon.

One moment is profane, the next is art.
A crescent moon hangs like a broken ring
and cannot hold what has been torn apart.

The black windows of soul are listening
through the lattice of shadow and the sight,
listening to the notes of each heartstring.

Dreams come drifting in the landscape of night,
in the delta of the heart and the mind;
and the dream of sin emerges in light.

I see his silhouette, though I am blind,
on the meridian of dreamy lust.
He beckons me to leave this world behind.

I am yet of the earth, not of the dust.
My breasts are supple and honeyed with milk,
and I cannot turn away though I must.

Our souls move together like burning silk
or two flames of fire that dance by design.
He offers me death; I offer him milk.

So, how can I be his or he be mine;
and how can death and life, as one, rejoice?
How can the dead and the living entwine?

He kisses me, and he leaves me no choice.
My life-breath is swallowed into the grave,
and the death dirt of the earth mutes my voice.

Between two worlds, I ride upon the wave,
desperately seeking to end my woes.
He is my master, and I am his slave.

Death is an anchor, and blood is the rose.

Reviews

[MoriartyMesa]

Our souls move together like burning silk
or two flames of fire that dance by design.
He offers me death; I offer him milk



Reminded me of http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jeV2tMQHzBk

[Gleb Zavlanov]

A very exquisite, gloriously-written poem. I wholeheartedly agree with all of the other reviews. Your writing is so dark yet colorful, full of blazing passion and sorrow. There are no words that can do justice to the beauty that you create through your words. Pen on!

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Gleb. Your words are an inspiration.

[Sagar Patil]

One moment is profane, the next is art.

Amazing line :)

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

I think you were born in the wrong Era, you should have come from a time when poetry was more wildly appreciated cause your work has a deeply emotional expression that is untouchable. All in all impressive.

[NoneOfYourBusiness akaK..]

what a rich banquet you spread for the reader~ metaphors like ripened berries~ sweet nectar for the surrealscapes of beautifully bent souls~


from the first stanza


The sightless question, the suspended moon -
the crack of the world is found in the heart -
the binate blessing of bountiful boon.

where the invitation is spread across the eyes like black lace not to blind but to enhance and shift perception
to the final line



Death is an anchor, and blood is the rose.

a tapestry of otherworldly sensuality drips thick and delicioius lie blackberry honey down the page~

[Robin]

a dreamscape of sensual surrealism , a battleground within the no man's land between the conscious and subconscious .

dreamy lust - profane and art .

your passion runs deep .