I leave in a deeper silence.

Death among a void,
             existence into the throat
of the flowers; but what is it about
the death of verse and prose
into the saurian rocks
             and night of memory
not myself? Quiet as baby’s breath.
             The fall of man
is a rarity from fear and falsity
             but as poetically a delusion
to capture in the snow like a child;
I reach to open my eyes
             to the tenor and tomb of
a sleep like Lazarus of the dead;
the cold exult, the connectivity
of mind is not reached, for language
             does not trace to the old trees
a forward of understanding.
The dark light
             stumbles in the topology
to the axis of beauty, oh, but it is not dead,
             in the arms of water
perched over lost prayers
in dark churches;
I am not blinded but wounded
             like a child of snow
who lies by the mouth of poets
             who leave their shadows
to the song.

I leave
in a deeper silence
             alone to the fossils without a place
                            and to the thought of others…
the ice pick at feet
to each other from each other;
therefore, death without a name
             but us.

© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.


First appeared in Volume Seven of Visual Verse Anthology.




Categories: Prose

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

35 replies

  1. “Beauty” is a topic that I like to rehearse and rewrite on, over again. It’s the only thing in the world that represents sheer vulnerability. It is always fragile, always weak, always in need of protection. Like a mother protecting her child. Like an organization protecting some endangered species. Beauty is always the protected, of things able to easily break. Though, why do we protect beauty? It’s out of love, that we protect beauty.

    Things able to be broken, are easily cherished. Things able to be dismantled, are easily preserved. The ones who wish to destroy beauty, are those who cannot understand life. They cannot understand it, because life is the same as beauty. Temporary. Both beauty and life are only ephemeral in our preservation of it.

    I write of this, because your poem reminds me a lot of how beauty falls, and how beauty rises. Like life, it falls and also rises. Knowledge, to the raising and the maintenance of beauty and life. Ignorance, to the destruction and negligence of beauty and life.

    Liked by 3 people

    • Whoops.

      Used an improper word.

      “Ephemeral”. Thought its definition referred to “eternity”.

      Ah, well…

      Replace it with “eternal”. 😀

      Liked by 2 people

      • Such great thoughts and I agree with you very much. I find “ephemeral” to be more fitting in its context because we can actively destroy what we should hold dear to us, such as life.

        But, I understand what you mean. I thank you for your feedback and as well for reading my piece. ❤

        Liked by 2 people

  2. This is a masterpiece, Lucy. The meanings… the metaphors.. the atmospheric quality..
    The finale is superb
    “I leave
    in a deeper silence
    alone to the fossils without a place
    and to the thought of others…
    the ice pick at feet
    to each other from each other;
    therefore, death without a name
    but us.”
    WOW.

    Liked by 3 people

  3. You write so beautifully, Lucy. This is amazing! 😊

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Wow! This poem is beautiful beyond words!!!

    Liked by 2 people

  5. You are an amazing poet. I wish I could write like you.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. This is so beautiful !!!! Evoking ! “I leave
    in a deeper silence
    alone to the fossils without a place…..” The fossils without a place….wow…beautiful Lucy!!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. You really seem ultra cool. Sorry for the seem, but no one truly knows. Thankyou for glancing at one of my poems, I, um, have just innocently started blogging and am quite vulnerable. After reading one of yours in return I know immediately that I want to read more, but I’m so tired right now. Let me just digest just the one for now and sleep on it. Talk about one epic girl huh, you really have a gentle heart of creativity bursting like a quasar. Till next time Lucy, and oh, thanks againx

    Liked by 2 people

  8. Such beautifully mesmerising poetry. It takes me on a jouney through time and space. It has a noble quality that somehow speaks of salvation.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Hello Lucy… I your deep and frightening, but that’s probably me this week…. I’m feeling fragile and tender… however I loved your profound finale stanza,
    ” I leave
    in a deeper silence
    alone to the fossils without a place
    and to the thought of others…
    the ice pick at feet
    to each other from each other;
    therefore, death without a name
    but us.” 😀😎

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Woah, this is outstanding. My my💛

    Liked by 1 person

  11. This is incredible, Lucy. Truly.
    I loved all of it but especially:
    “The fall of man
    is a rarity from fear and falsity
    but as poetically a delusion
    to capture in the snow like a child;”

    Liked by 1 person

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