do not.

centuries dead moon
pretty ladies on the street
by death, clothed with
white snow; winter’s blue water
fingers in stardust, snitching ice red
as though I had seen, dearest,
your physiognomy of spring,
moved in black craters; (like tall roses),
whisk, whisk,
swaying a face, sun gardened
and unlike, cleaning osprey eggs.
try beyond,
do not turn from me,
twitching your oceanid weeds,
in symmetry twisting
shyness in ice, eyes like elk,
your little hands, moon, oak
lies in something
of the tree.

Written for the dVerse prompt: Today we will write about color from the perspective of a synesthete. Pick one color or several colors. 

I was inspired by E.E. Cummings, particularly with this:

“the way to hump a cow is not
to elevate your tool
but drop a penny in the slot
and bellow like a bool”

Just kidding. I thought I would include that to maybe throw you off. However, I was inspired by E.E. Cummings’ writing style, just not by that poem, which if this intrigues you, you can read it here.

  71 comments for “do not.

  1. November 5, 2020 at 3:29 pm

    I like the word “oceanid.” And I had NO IDEA about that cummings poem…

    Liked by 3 people

    • November 5, 2020 at 4:03 pm

      There’s always something to find in the whelm of poetry, no? That poor cow…

      Liked by 3 people

  2. November 5, 2020 at 3:39 pm

    I read so much into your picture… to me this is like a painting by Matisse with the pretty ladies walking a Parisian street, I would have said that those little hands also reminds me of ee cummings… nothing but the rain has such small hands.

    Liked by 3 people

  3. November 5, 2020 at 3:48 pm

    Not sure what’s going on in the poem, but this passage makes me think it’s about two lovers, which means it’s complicated:
    “do not turn from me,
    twitching your oceanid weeds,
    in symmetry twisting
    shyness in ice, eyes like elk,”
    I especially like “shyness in ice, eyes like elk”

    Liked by 2 people

    • November 5, 2020 at 4:05 pm

      Thank you. You would be quite right. The narrator addresses their lover–a rift is between them but still the narrator finds their love in the simplest of things. A reminder of what they had/have.

      Liked by 2 people

      • November 5, 2020 at 4:16 pm

        You are welcome and appreciate you explaining.

        Liked by 2 people

  4. November 5, 2020 at 3:51 pm

    a lovely creative piece of poetry intertwined with I know not what but love this line especially
    “lingers in stardust, snitching ice red”

    Liked by 2 people

    • November 5, 2020 at 4:06 pm

      Hahaha, thank you! To sum it up, I’d say this is a lover’s quarrel.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. November 5, 2020 at 4:06 pm

    Quite delicate and deep… and timeless.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. November 5, 2020 at 4:07 pm

    There is something burning under the ice here. I like your use of colour.

    Liked by 2 people

  7. November 5, 2020 at 4:11 pm

    Your pack a lot in your poem, but this comes to me as a moment in stillness, Lucy. I love that face, sun gardened, and eyes like elk – very imaginative.

    Liked by 3 people

  8. November 5, 2020 at 4:21 pm

    I love the build up of sounds and textures with your colours, especially in the lines:
    ‘shyness in ice, eyes like elk,
    your little hands, moon, oak’

    Liked by 2 people

  9. silent poetry
    November 5, 2020 at 5:17 pm

    Really lovely Lucy ❤️

    Liked by 2 people

  10. November 5, 2020 at 6:31 pm

    What a great piece! So much going on behind the scenes. Your allusions are exquisinte! Love the word oceanid.

    Liked by 2 people

  11. November 5, 2020 at 7:02 pm

    Wild stuff Lucy, hallucinogenic, colorful, fascinating…

    Liked by 2 people

  12. sanaarizvi
    November 5, 2020 at 7:21 pm

    WOW!!💝 This is absolutely amazing 😀 such arresting imagery that runs deep into the soul and cries out loud. Especially love; “your physiognomy of spring, moved in black craters; (like tall roses), whisk, whisk, swaying a face, sun gardened and unlike, cleaning osprey eggs.”💝

    Liked by 2 people

  13. November 5, 2020 at 8:19 pm

    Oh my gosh, I loved the beginning and then it engulfed me. I was drowning in the dream and out of control, spiraling down into one of your amazing poems! I love the way you write and wish I could do the same., Thank you Lucy!!! ☺️

    Liked by 2 people

    • November 5, 2020 at 8:30 pm

      Thank you so much, Christine. I always look forward to your comments—you’re so sweet and kind. I’m truly honored and flattered. Thank you so very much.


  14. November 5, 2020 at 8:24 pm

    I love your sense of humor! Penny in the slot indeed!!

    Liked by 2 people

  15. November 5, 2020 at 8:52 pm

    I love the impressionistic flow of color/imagery, all with a nice delicate touch of your poetic brush dipped in earth and sky. Something to gaze at all day. 😍

    Liked by 2 people

  16. November 5, 2020 at 9:39 pm

    I could feel every color here! I especially liked, “shyness in ice, eyes like elk” Very good storytelling here!

    Liked by 2 people

  17. mariamichaela
    November 6, 2020 at 3:12 am

    I loved the imagery you painted with your words, Lucy. But that Cummings poetry had me laughing my ass off 😂

    Liked by 2 people

    • November 6, 2020 at 9:13 am

      Thank you, and that is exactly why I included it. We all need some humor these days. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  18. November 6, 2020 at 4:52 am

    You channelled your inner cummings, ‘dropped a penny in the slot’, and released a kaleidoscope of chill-tempered colours, Lucy. I particularly love the ‘fingers in stardust, snitching ice red’; ‘your physiognomy of spring / moved in black craters’; and ‘do not turn from me, / twitching your oceanid weeds’. I get the feeling someone’s not happy.

    Liked by 2 people

    • November 6, 2020 at 9:12 am

      Thank you so much, Kim. Yes, someone is not happy. Love is woe seems to be the main theme here, hahaha. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  19. November 6, 2020 at 7:56 am

    I don’t pretend to have a clue what’s going on in this poem, but it’s full of colour and textures 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  20. November 6, 2020 at 10:52 am

    This poem is a busy bustling colorful place. I think my favorite color is “winter’s blue water
    fingers in stardust”

    Liked by 3 people

  21. November 6, 2020 at 2:30 pm

    I love the colors and images. To me, it seemed more elemental than human lovers quarreling. I thought it was supernatural creatures or maybe the earth itself. . . the pretty ladies flowers dead in the winter. . .lots of beautiful phrases.

    But you are so funny with the e.e. cummings remark. 😀

    Liked by 2 people

    • November 6, 2020 at 3:15 pm

      Now you have me convinced that I should write a sci-fi poem or prose piece. 😀 Thank you so very much as well for the kind words, Merril.

      I’m also glad you liked the E.E. Cummings poem I included. Humor is a necessity, these times especially.

      Liked by 1 person

      • November 6, 2020 at 4:53 pm

        You’re very welcome. I’m sure a sci-fi piece would be wonderful. I was more amused by your comment that you were inspired by that particular poem, but the poem is funny, too.

        Liked by 2 people

  22. November 6, 2020 at 4:11 pm

    I always like the way you clothe your people in their elements. I can picture those snow garments, and death calling. (K)

    Liked by 3 people

  23. November 6, 2020 at 5:33 pm

    Just the sound of the words together, bouncing off each other, repelling like the wrong ends of magnets, coming back together like quick silver disturbed… is wonderful… a joy to read.

    Liked by 2 people

  24. November 6, 2020 at 6:08 pm

    I dont think i understand the story told in this poem, even after reading some of the comments.
    However i did like the transport from icy cold to
    “swaying a face, sun gardened”
    I liked the warmth and the care in cultivation
    The last line with hands, tree and moon; suggest to me some kind of romance
    Mystifing !!!

    Liked by 2 people

    • November 6, 2020 at 6:09 pm

      Thank you, Gillena. I can understand, my poetry is pretty abstract and weird. 😀 Thank you for the kind words and feedback. It’s always appreciated.

      Much love back. ❤


  25. Glenn A. Buttkus
    November 6, 2020 at 6:15 pm

    Here I am at the end of the line. I love any poem that uses “physiognomy”, an underused word. This piece has it’s death rattle, but it does feel different than most of your work–it does play with words ala e.e.cummings. Your wordsmithing is revved up and evident.

    Liked by 2 people

    • November 6, 2020 at 6:24 pm

      Thank you so very much, Glenn!


  26. November 7, 2020 at 6:32 am


    your little hands, moon, oak
    lies in something of the tree.

    Wanting to be relevant it has some quaint connection to what the tree. represents


    Liked by 2 people

    • November 7, 2020 at 9:56 am

      Thank you. 🙂


  27. November 7, 2020 at 10:39 am

    A very beautiful poem that evokes all to the display for a person’s observation. That is what I see, in this work. An observation, as though what is being viewed, is confined in a frame, buried in a canvas. As colors for the imagery, to the shades that express confusion for other parts. Could that person turn from the observer? As it is, in what a person notices to something so unified by colorings, by recognition in what is collected, makes the beautiful details counted. They cannot turn, especially as recognition would become its opposite, when backwards, when once facing the observer.

    Liked by 2 people

    • November 7, 2020 at 1:34 pm

      Oh, thank you so much. This is an interpretation that stuns me, I had never looked at my poem this way. Your perspective fascinates me greatly, have you studied a lot of literature in the past? You seem to pay close attention to the symbolism as an allegory. As well, I always enjoy reading your feedback. Your words and kindness mean a lot to me, thank you so very much.

      Liked by 1 person

      • November 7, 2020 at 1:48 pm

        You’re welcome for the feedback. 🙂

        I actually have not studied literature in the past. Not in college, at least. Perhaps the one book I did finish, while reading on my own, was Les Miserables. It took me 3 years to read, in its entirety. That novel just greatly influenced me, as I’ve become a great admirer of Hugo’s works.

        Liked by 2 people

  28. November 7, 2020 at 5:50 pm

    Oh, my. This is gorgeous. I’m a big Cummings fan myself, and often find my flow influenced by him.

    My favorite lines:
    “winter’s blue water
    fingers in stardust”


    Liked by 2 people

  29. November 8, 2020 at 1:17 am

    I read it twice more.So deep..magical words..Poetry is my love and I am in love with your amazing poetry💖💖

    Liked by 2 people

  30. Kaylee
    November 8, 2020 at 6:06 pm


    Liked by 2 people

  31. November 9, 2020 at 1:09 pm

    You always amaze me Lucy! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • November 9, 2020 at 3:02 pm

      Thank you, Lillian. ☺️


  32. February 2, 2021 at 7:59 am

    white snow; winter’s blue water… Fascinating Words ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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