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Ripped ...

In ragged two
     by duty and a libidinous heart,

He stood burning
          in the cold fire of an ocean of sad suns ...

Naked, save for his bloated virtue,
               hope dripping from his veins

To stain his bald feet,
                    collecting in a puddle of lost dreams ...

Deep enough to drown
               an army of ardent aspirations,

And more sacred than the heart
          left eviscerated and hooked ...

Drying in the heated breath
     of a weeping, soot-blackened ...

Moon.





~ 2nd Place ~  in the "Early May Premiere, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

(The beauty of the dark ... the truth of a barren spirit)

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 7/31/2019 3:45:00 PM
Hope dripping from his veins, puddle of lost dreams...you are the king of phraseology!
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Gregory R Barden
Date: 7/31/2019 4:51:00 PM
Oh, thank you for saying that, John, that means a lot to me, cuz I work VERY hard to come up with fresh phrasing and metaphor that is SENSIBLE ... it has to paint a clear picture, but it has to make sense too, or what's the point? Blessings, my friend - don't know what I'd do without your honest encouragement and kindness!
Date: 7/22/2019 8:43:00 AM
Another great poem I have just now found. So reminds me of poetry composed by the golden poets of old my fiend.. A fav-- true gem..
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Gregory R Barden
Date: 7/22/2019 10:27:00 AM
That's very kind of you, Robert, and I thank you so much! Really pleased that you like this one, as I worked hard to create some unusual phrasing and imagery - blessings, My Good Friend! :o)