One night I dreamed
That I was walking in a barren red poppy field
Yet deep in my vision I was walking
In a blood filled river
As I tread the long and narrowing path
I noticed thorns were popping out
And started pricking my bare sole
I slowly felt the pain rushing through
Every part of my muscles
Through the very core of my veins
I wanted to get free
From the pain that was slowly
Gnawing, eating my whole being
I tried to jump and flap my arms
And to my surprise
I was able to fly
I was like a bird who was able to fly
For the very first time
I was free at last
I fly just right above the poppy field
And let the gentle wind
Glide me free up above the trees
While I was up above the clouds
I looked back to where I was before
And saw people in pain and grieving
I decided to reach for the heavens
To ask for pity and ease their soul
But heaven did not open it's door
I shed tears...
Slowly my tears turned into bitter
Drops of blood running down my cheeks
I noticed my skin started cracking
My muscles and bones breaking
I cannot feel anymore, I was numb
I became a handful of tiny grains of sand
Being spread away by the gentle winds
To cover the vast land of tears, of pain
I woke up with a throbbing heart
I woke up in pain, I woke up feeling useless
I woke up all alone... once again...
D'sDrippingmind
23rd of April 2009
Dearest D,
ReplyDeleteYet another fantastic poem. And divine illustration.
Thanks for this beautiful poem.
with the bestest wishes,
trisha
ref: Charlz
Dear D,
Thans for taking out your time to check here, charlz left his comment in my second blog..suryakana.blogspot.com, in the same poem.
but i hope you have received my mail. I will wait for your answer.
thanks for liking the poem, it touched your heart because it was from the deepest place of my heart.
with the bestest wishes,
trisha
You flatter me.
ReplyDeleteA lot of my poems come from dreams, I let the words find me I don't go looking for them. The poems seem to write themselves.
As far as my brevity, a long time ago I used to post on Poetry.com, they will only allow you 20 lines so I made a game of it, an excercise in brevity. To see how short and succint and eloquent a poem I could write in less than 20 lines.
Before long I was writing these three line poems, I would actually use the title as a line in the poem, leading into to the poem but never using it within the poem itself.
I have pages of these things, they are not haikus or epigrams necessarily. Just potent personal philosophys. I build poems upon these little ideas.
Although sometimes they are just so pure I will post them like I did indifference. I just cannot seem to flesh them out and if I try I always wind back up where I started. The poem in it's purest form.
I hear words that tend to hit me funny, and I will write a little philosophy or definition around the word itself.
Your poems are very beautiful and heartfelt. This one especially. It ended so bittersweet, you had thatillusion of hope going and I was embraced by it and yet it ended so sadly.
Sometimes I wish I wrote longer poems. But when I do they almost become epic, like a story written in verse. My Incubus poem I put under prose even though it is in verse is over 20 verses long.
It was the first poem I ever wrote, tried to write. For a woman I had met on napster. Since then I rewrote it 5 times, once into a short story and then back to verse.
Thank you for your comment, I really don't even consider myself a poet. I just write what my heart tells me to.
Its not always pretty, or posiive. Sometimes its very beautiful and longing.
My favorite poet of all time is Percy Blythe Shelley. I suppose i aspire to write like he did but in a more modernized form. His poetry was so pure and bittersweet.
Peace.