Forlorn in this forsaken room, my mind to shadows clings,
Filled to the brim with fragments of a life no longer mine.
It was a game at first… Alas. How ruthless time’s weight swings
Your quirks were mine to love. For every one I’m cursed to pine.
How like a child you were, enchanted. Every gift — a treasure
Not to be opened in a hurry, find out what lay within.
As if the secret may be yours to find – a drawn out pleasure –
With patient care you caressed its every edge and listened in.
How you dissevered nourishment to pieces in dismay:
A micro-universe to be explored before it fled,
As if from every tasted morsel you could tear away
The memories of paths that others once upon have tread.
Rolled cigarette: between your fingers – miniature cigar,
Breathed in the scent as if to you it were a fragrant flower.
When from the blossom of your lips I stole the smoldered star,
You chided that your only vice should not let mine turn sour.
I spied you, when upset, step out of your tranquil skin,
Berating sweetly failings to you only known
And in so doing you detached the sinner from the sin
To chase with laughter clouds, hold secrets yours alone.
I loved how you chose colours for your moods, long-vanished shore
And grew afraid to see you wear purple, downward climb,
For trouble would be tarring my horizons with its oar.
How quick I raked my brain for clues to how I failed this time…
Moment of you. No longer mine to cherish and obey.
For one mistake am punished for a lifetime. Come what may.
‘When from the blossom of your lips I stole the smoldered star” I got shivers! Very beautifully sorrowful (is that an oxymoron?) and capturing.
The question remains…Kathrine or Elena…? 🙂
Thank you. Sometimes the demands of rhythm can take us to unexpected places.
Elena… possibly. I decided to change the image. It may have been a mistake.
Your use of both rhythm and rhyme work well in this piece drawing the reader in and providing empathy with the writer. I love the structure of your opening line – ‘Forlorn in this forsaken room, my mind to shadows clings,’ – which sort of hints towards the sadness of the theme, yet still urges one to read on. great writing. Vic!
Thank you, Chris. I wrote this piece in white verse to begin with, but it seemed to have no soul, so I decided to rework it. At times the limits rhythm and rime free creativity in unexpected ways. It was much harder craft-work to get there, but after reading your comment I am glad I persevered.
Beautiful lines in this, Vic, I just had to say.
Thank you, Richard. It means a lot coming from fellow poet.
You’re very welcome, I meant it.
“you chided that your only vice should not let mine turn sour.”
how thoughtful and protective.
quite often the quirks of a relationship are all that we have to hang on to, with a fear of letting go.
one will always love more than the other does and quirks can become annoyances; but in the midst of ‘paradise’ our idiosyncracies are are a joy to behold and share 🙂
i love this poem and and its wordplay
Dear TwinCentaur, what a lovely comment and such warm praise. Thank you. I too loved exploring those litre fragments of a beloved’s character and behaviour that oftentimes can only be known by one who loves. You are quite right… these idiosyncrasies are often the food of love, but they can become annoyances when a relationship begins to fall apart.
Beautiful, just beautiful.
Thank you, Lee-Anne. xx
It spoke directly to my own life. Punished for a lifetime. Mesmerizing verse, Vic.
You have me intrigued. Thank you for your comment, Erik. Our journeys at times have more in common than one might think.
So true. And I believe that those life moments are the ingredients in the recipe that made us writers.
Where would we be without them?
Lounging in a vegetable path, would be my guess 😉
You may be right there, and I’d much rather not indulge in too much lounging of that nature 😉
Awesome, love your style!
Thank you. I’m very pleased you enjoyed the poem.
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Amazing and heart wrenching!
I am afraid my poetry does tend to be somewhat on the melancholy side. Thank you.
Beautiful, haunting, and so richly blessed with the bittersweet images, experiences and memories of the piercing of the heart.
Thank you, Susan. I delved deep for this one and am always glad when what I create resonates.
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