Black rivers.

Do not look at the black night
In the whitecap of the storm,
And then when it comes to dreams,
Do not speak of them to me
For I lived in the years before.
Strands in the lust of blood
Into the twilit road at night
The first fleet dead, slayed
At Octavian’s feet,
And it was in the leaves
Untinged by the wind;
They do not know what it means
Like the first wave of ashes
Into the chrome of darkness,
Still blinking into the ice
In the shape of dead land
By the black rivers in the world,
For it means anything else,
Where every impaled dream
Shouted to the seeking,
To the vision, to the tribal births
In beauty abandoned,
Where no one else can go
Speared by terror and death.
Wrapped into begotten mists,
We invite merely the first blow
The first chill, but not the first consumed
Into forgotten paved roads,
Where we thought we had seen it all,
But not into the dark wombs
Red and dusty in creation
Collected in the feeble rain
By the black rivers in the world.

© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.

38 thoughts on “Black rivers.

    1. Hi. I’m glad you liked my poetry that much. I’m flattered. All I ask is that in the future if you could please let me know before publishing my content on your blog. Thank you. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  1. As an Australian, these line strongly resonated with me Lucy…
    “Like the first wave of ashes
    Into the chrome of darkness,
    Still blinking into the ice
    In the shape of dead land
    By the black rivers in the world,”

    And thank you Lucy for following my blog/website, your support is greatly appreciated, I hope you enjoy reading my humble writings, and I’m from Geelong, Australia. Cheers. Ivor.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you, Ivor. I’m so glad this could resonate with you, especially during these crazy times of the world today.

      Anytime, friend. Thank you for following my blog as well. I look forward to reading more of your work too. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Yet another amazing poem!

    “Where every impaled dream
    Shouted to the seeking,
    To the vision, to the tribal births
    In beauty abandoned,
    Where no one else can go
    Speared by terror and death.”

    This part really got me, in a good way, and I don’t fully know why; be it the imagery, the language, etc., it was very well-written!!

    Liked by 3 people

  3. And yet, where do we go with dreams? Surely, we cannot merely drown them in fear. Can we ever lift them to someplace that shows more certainty?

    I believe, through hard work, we can purify our vision to see something brighter on the trail before us. Life will take us down the stream, inevitably. Though, to face the rapids will be a trial, or to turn back when the trek is too foolish to follow, we can do that, too.

    Your poetry is very good. It makes me think you’ve been writing these pieces for a while. Very experienced stuff. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. That is very true. Facing the obstacles or turning back are our choices. The results of them varies on the stream and how it courses throughout the river. Ultimately, how we deal with it overall.

      I’ve enjoyed reading your feedback. Thank you so much. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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