bloom.

Desert, her eyes are morsels

to the jasmine and roses once grown from her wrists,

between the flowers in each white finger,

whilst the moon falls, leaves barefoot in winter,

    deserved for posturing an abyss 

this dance, like an atramentous sea;

woman

to the ebb and flow 

of flower bedded lips to firstborn tree,

knucklebones, wrists,

red-dusted each tress,

a harvest of glass adorned on her face,

calaveras

like milium sands; sanguinolent

leaves fall, fingers hold them tightly

in silent beats of her heart,

she soon sings, through each palliative thorn

each stem that twists and lives,

swelling in möbius dreams

to asylum under the dotted moon, 

ice creases like a porcelain doll,

she begets it; broken bones of the shore

never surrenders, the woman aglow;

deathly violets she kisses them once,

and they bloom.

© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.


Written for the dVerse prompt: “Write a poem motivated by one of Catrin Welz-Stein’s images.”




Categories: Poetry, Prose

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

73 replies

  1. I had to look up the meaning of several words here — I’m always learning at dVerse! I like your description of her in these words “ice creases like a porcelain doll.'” And I’ll take that final word “bloom” in the positive sense! 🙂
    She really is an amazing artist, right?

    Liked by 4 people

    • Thank you so much, Lillian! And yes, this is actually a positive piece (oh, for once in my life… ha). I figured since you were hosting poetics today, I thought I would write a poem that’s much lighter than my usual writings; and I think I may have accomplished that. 🙂

      Yes, she really is. I’m going to check out more of her work. It’s inspiring.

      Liked by 2 people

  2. This is amazing… and I love that you have included some ambiguity into the darkness of your words, but the thought of möbius dreams is perfect for those nights when you’re walking in circles only to be back where you started.

    Liked by 3 people

  3. My goodness this is good! As always you swept me away with your magical imagery 😀 I love; “this dance, like an atramentous sea; woman to the ebb and flow of flower bedded lips to firstborn tree.”

    Liked by 4 people

  4. This line jumps out at me: “she soon sings, through each palliative thorn”

    Liked by 2 people

  5. How wonderful that blooming at the end. This speaks to me of a woman in charge of her destiny despite the brokenness of life. This is my favorite imagery:

    she soon sings, through each palliative thorn
    each stem that twists and lives,
    swelling in möbius dreams

    Amazing write as always Lucy.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. aha this is more pleasing altho you’ve managed to weave death into those palliative thorns … she totally looks like a porcelain doll! Thanks Lucy, love this

    Liked by 2 people

  7. A wonderful word play in this one Lucy. I love the kiss that make them bloom instead of dying!
    Dwight

    Liked by 2 people

  8. Wow! Have to read it a few more times, but wow!

    Liked by 2 people

  9. A haunting kind of blooming – a dramatic and dark take on the prompt!

    Liked by 2 people

  10. You’re welcome! I also loved the line: ‘swelling in möbius dreams.’ Got me reading about möbius strips which set my mind reeling!

    Liked by 2 people

  11. I love this poem, Lucy. The opening lines are so dreamy and I love the wordplay in the ambiguous line: ‘whilst the moon falls, leaves barefoot in winter’ – it made me ponder. I was also drawn to the imagery and the lines:
    ‘knucklebones, wrists,
    red-dusted each tress,
    a harvest of glass adorned on her face,
    calaveras
    like milium sands…’

    Liked by 2 people

  12. Left me breathless, literally. So good I forgot to breathe.

    Liked by 2 people

  13. I’m still waiting to see what effect this one produces. For the moment it’s a woman walking along a seashore at dusk with roses.

    Liked by 2 people

  14. The prompt image you chose was very well expressed Lucy, fine writing. I really like these Welz-Stein artworks.

    Liked by 2 people

  15. There’s still darkness and blood, but there’s hope in the bloom at the end–that she initiates from something within in her. I like that. 😀
    I also like the möbius dreams.

    Liked by 2 people

  16. “of flower bedded lips to firstborn tree” — truly stunning line. Love the word choices in the poem–clinical, exact, colorful, and evocative.

    Liked by 4 people

  17. Porcelain seems just right for both woman and roses. Hard and fragile at the same time. (K)

    Liked by 2 people

  18. This is incredible in its beauty, Lucy. I love all of the imagery, rhymes and the sounds you have chosen throughout. It is very satisfying to read. You can feel the breaking and the growing. Overall I am just in love with this poem! 🌸

    Liked by 2 people

  19. Read it many times…felt like coming back or taking charge…loved the images that came to mind…

    Liked by 2 people

  20. Mesmerizing flow of images, some broken, incongruous yet resonant with strength and life.

    Liked by 2 people

  21. Reblogged this on johncoyote and commented:

    Amazing poetry shared.

    Liked by 2 people

  22. I enjoyed your work today. This poem was my favorite.

    Liked by 2 people

  23. “a harvest of glass adorned on her face” – Spectacular writing. You always make me look up several words!

    Liked by 2 people

  24. Such a beautiful poem and amazing use of words

    Liked by 2 people

  25. Lucy, I so like it that you send me on missions to learn new words. I used to like going to the dictionary to investigate meanings, pronunciations, and how the heck do I use it in a sentence? But now there’s google/
    I haven’t mentioned “Fine Job” yet. / plus the wild imagery to imagine.
    Thanx, gray

    Liked by 1 person

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