Notes About The Poem
for Edward Ibehs "To dust " contest ~
To Dust
I read the burn to hand-feed
the dark with pills of pleasure ~
twilight entombed
within troubled walls,
swollen and sore,
throbbing with ache,
an insatiable appetite
to relish the realism
of your silhouette of sapience,
a breathing poem
with metaphors in motion,
meticulously merged
with the musk of euphoric musings…
O bronco wild, white force,
the bona fide heat
heaving in bedazzled breeze
around the fragile fingers
of my unclothed heart.
Walk me out of the devious
doors of demented dreams;
free-flow me to a realm
of quenching quiescence,
where condemnatory pupils
do not imprison
the tongue that savors
the flavor of foreverness,
with everlasting vapors
of pulsing peridots
staining these panopticon lips,
sealed with softly sewn secrets.
Serve me your sanguine silk…
They do not sympathize
with the bleeding thorns
painfully wanting ~
sleeplessly yearning
to trace the honest waves,
catalyzing the spark
awaiting escape,
away from the cross-eyed fables
fabricating the fragrance
of my zealous love ~
your rose lady,
restless to bloom as one,
rooted to the runes written
across your ambidextrous armor.
I am tattered and torn,
stuck in a scrutinized cycle,
yet still I refuse
to let these petals wilt.
I let my thoughts wander
to the waking wilderness,
where gypsy blossoms
caress and nurture
the penetrating luster
of pearl-light sepals,
resembling my damask spirit,
unstained by the sepulchral ashes ~
dust-laden, kohl-corpse chains
of faithless society,
of blood serpents
masking malevolence,
pretending to be well-wishers…
I care not for their callous clamors,
cruelty caved
in charismatic lies,
deciphering my virtuous dawn
as dangerous delirium;
so take me away ~
to flawless fields
bathed in orange topaz skies…
~ I am yours to worship,
your masterpiece of paradise ~
***Inspired by the artwork; The Lady Rose, by Paul Delvaux
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