Poetry (53)

Hello Escritori,

I’m experiencing a bit of a drought right now in the poetic quarter. Spinning straw.



The wine of summer is beginning to ferment

But the greens are vivid yet.

The stunning tongues

Of neighbourhood fence-side


Sting my retinas.


Red is never so red

Than when paired

With the emerald of Eden.

And yet, it is in this place

In this street

Resonant with mistakes

That I walk past fire

That has no flame

But is just as graphic.


And learn anew the lesson

Required to travel the path

Winding through this place

That connotes the change

From godlessness to grace.


I will do so, I shall do so,

By fearing neither the bloom

That looks like flame

Nor the dead echoes of desire.


For I am no longer consumed.


The grass where I am now

Is far more green.

And these flaming flowers

I see before me, in your street

Are nothing more than

The mark of a pyre, for

Already eviscerated dreams.


(© Copyright Pola Negri, 30/07/2016.)


2 thoughts on “Poetry (53)

  1. Lovely and inspiring. To me, powerful message about letting go of the past. (A bit jealous of the greenness on your side of the world, by the way. Here in Massachusetts all the yards look like African deserts :0 )


  2. Haha, I may’ve had some help in Post Production – but yes, very green and pleasant land. Great to hear from you again Mae, thanks for dropping by!


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