Venus I, II
Moonlight shone upon a withered, weary
heart, warped and scarred by a life of many
failures and dreams unfulfilled.
now she is a slave to her own thoughts,
and undying feelings of indifference. sitting
in a carcass of wasted time. like the
persistence of memory.
the master of puppets pulls on her
tells her to take that
she lives on the dark side of the moon.
yet her volcanic beauty is like a rare
Galileo laid eyes upon for the first time
through a telescope back in 1610,
and sketched into our history books
for future human beings to gaze at
and be marveled by.
this is what her beauty is like.
Venus is not merely a person, or planet —
she is consciousness.
her eyes are like Egyptian pools,
they show a reflection of her eternal soul
which flows like the Nile;
it could give life to entire civilizations.
this is the source of her beauty,
a fiery, inexplicable warmth
fueled from the embers
that remain burning in her caged soul—
unblemished by time, by age,
and by failure.
Venus is not merely a person, or planet
she is the very essence of life,
and its representation of beauty.
Venus is the trees and the flowers unaware
of the peace they bring to humans.
Venus may not see it, though she glistened
through the cosmos with a radiance that
threatened even that of the moon and the
yet to her, time is a grain of sand trickling
down in an hourglass
in her life
moment to ever be
only as meaningful as these grains of sand.
she doesn’t see the big picture,
she doesn’t see her beauty,
and these are both great tragedies.
still, she stays on full display in the night sky,
the girl who was afraid to be,
Copyright © J.J Bell | Year Posted 2022
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment