In the Starriest Groves

Reads: 331  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 5

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Something starry.

Liquid bones are scattered
& bent to form perfect crests.
Blue Poplars & cypresses
tangled into planets,
slashing the horizon into
marbles, taking heavy breaths.

The marrow of the heart
conquers yellow leaves, &
steals the coldest of nights.

In its wake, a latern;
striking oil into fire,
into the midnight blue,
sparking the moonlit spider,
giving way to sonorous skies
haunted by blue poplars.

(The boy with no face crunched
dry leaves with a mirror.)

Eyes & kisses flooded
with peoples with stems made
of cotton & shadow.
Dark horses in clusters -
the dark moon in the groves.

The marrow of the heart
conquers yellow leaves, &
steals the coldest of nights.

Burnt cypress in a circle,
flooding its trunk with stars,
leaving a penumbra
to cleanse its filthy shadow.

(The boy with no face wept
for the mirrors reflection.)


Submitted: August 30, 2009

© Copyright 2022 Froodle. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

Comments

justbeformlessly

wow... thanks for the journey .') Great imagery- very enjoyable.

Sun, August 30th, 2009 4:20pm

Author
Reply

thank you =]

Sun, August 30th, 2009 9:46am

Classy Peach

You are simply amazing in breadth and depth.

Sun, August 30th, 2009 4:36pm

Author
Reply

thank you so much =]

Sun, August 30th, 2009 9:47am

Laurel

I love how you used the word Poplars. An uncommon word nowadays. Like balaclava is. haha
Anyway, I loved it. I love your style because... it's eerie. Haunting in a way.
I like the part about the marrow of the heart.
It almost sounds like ... the heart's vitality conquers death. yellow leaves and cold nights of course remind me of autumn, which reminds me of coming death.
All and all, I loved it. So good job =)

Mon, August 31st, 2009 5:07am

Author
Reply

haha thank you =]

Mon, August 31st, 2009 4:57am

mochacocoa

hmm, saw it in a different light, meaning something more, than our universe. (:
another great poem. ;}

Fri, September 4th, 2009 2:54am

Author
Reply

thank you very much

Thu, September 3rd, 2009 7:57pm

Robert Wright

You are a watcher of the night skies. Am I correct?
Your verse itself is sonorous, but in the positive sense only, far from boring.

What type of telescope, in autumn, sees its way into the heart of your penumbral shadow? //r.w.

Thu, September 10th, 2009 5:13am

Author
Reply

You are correct. I am a watcher of every kind of sky. The night sky, the daytime sky, - the sky you see and the sky i see, even the sky that the river's see - and i love every bit of it. I'm so glad that you like my work =] thank you for the comments

Thu, September 10th, 2009 2:19pm

Facebook Comments

Other Content by Froodle

Poem / Poetry

Poem / Poetry

Poem / Poetry