Monday, May 17, 2004

~ Gravity Rose



My pricked and bleeding hand
from a thorny rose afront…
Betray a beautiful but brutal flora
as I smell tears blossom wet.

The fault and pain made mine
must be innocent opposition
to the collapse, a bad recoil that
needs of pride, yet sovereignty denies.

Love, infatuation, ruined innocence
just like water, cures the harmful fire.
Life of the innocent, bliss of ignorance
And the inevitable spiraling romance.

Until then, you and I, dance
the tragic heartbreak tango
ever more at stake and lost
until along steps mi amour.

First - With a graced context
teaching Möbius like a trick
to faux openings for closures,
rented moves that fail in situ.

My sadness grows despite
a tender feeling so kind
no release she falls and is
broken, in words that rattle.

Her articulation on my failure
in years passed, razes future.
Her hope of change betrayed
by prickly shadow's domain.

Grown up and a bigger man,
her words strike scarred rain.
How I live feels so amiss
inside of skeptical and pissed

This live blooming rose path
has been my lucky chagrin
no grave warnings for refrain
but gravity into reddish injury.
 
Of her earlier thorns...
I never understood her plan
She never felt safe with me
Two years later, a broadside?

I cut her off in chat, my bad
she writes, I can’t talk to you
plain and simple boy slam-fest
brat she said ran me thru bad

my anger made a poor discredit
This probe escalated into strike
Laying grounds for a challenge.
Tomorrow, a sober story will tell.

© 5/17/04, RJDuberg
rev 9/2016

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