Poetry

You handsome devil.

The first chip in the axe
is in the ebony winter
fingers craving on the fresh
vein of apples,
madness, an old wine,

the tender briar
of the moon and drunk
morpheus to a shore
that never bleeds;
seduction to the red
strawberries / naked insanities
to veiled black feathers,
we’ll not wait
for the moon to commit suicide.
Have our tombs,
six months in winter,
six months in spring;

you handsome devil,
there is a dream impregnated
to drunk poetry and death of consciousness
like the bare feet of winter
killed by glass mirrors,
castanets of stone
to the cosmic breath
and bone, the tulle sandalwood
of this bride’s wrist
bound to Hades.


Written for the Free Verse Revolution prompt: pomegranate seeds.

Mainly inspired by this song.

Very much unrelated, but the Little Writing Workshop of Horrors was recently ranked #38 out of 100 on the top 100 Writing Blogs and Websites in 2020 on Feedspot.

Featured in Sunday best for FVR.

Reposted for the dVerse open link night.


82 replies »

  1. Lucy! I love it! Your creativity and imagination is …wonderful is not enough of a word to describe it!
    ” bare feet of winter
    killed by glass mirrors,
    castanets of stone
    to the cosmic breath
    and bone, the tulle sandalwood
    of this bride’s wrist
    bound to Hades.” WOW

    Liked by 4 people

  2. I love the opening stanza, Lucy, it got the hairs on my arms standing up, and ‘the tender briar of the moon’ is a stunning image. My favourite lines are the ones with the moan of internal rhyme:
    ‘castanets of stone
    to the cosmic breath
    and bone, the tulle sandalwood
    of this bride’s wrist
    bound to Hades’.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Perhaps. I used the term, if I remember correctly, in a sort of romantic (actually, it’s more like Stockholm Syndrome) context with irony. Their relationship was vile, and with the final two lines at the end, Persephone is bound to him no matter what. She is free, but only partially.

      Like

  3. Lucy, I don’t know how you did it but Persephone and Hades never came so alive and intensely personal as when I was reading this. “Ebony winter” craving the “fresh vein of apples” — who could have said it any better, that bad boy need and the wholesome girl fatal attraction, jeweled metaphors that you toss out with such ease. An unforgettable masterpiece ❤️❤️❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  4. “there is a dream impregnated to drunk poetry and death of consciousness like the bare feet of winter killed by glass mirrors, castanets of stone,” ,,, this is so powerful! 💝

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Lucy, I really like the way your mind navigates through a poem. You bring it to a high pace, and share, not only what is in front of you, but also what you catch glimpse of as you pass through your writing journey. I enjoy and admire that ability. I have moved back to bring too linear to the thread to write that way effectively any more, left to my vision. However, I was part of an online poetry community years ago, centered around Dana Guthrie Martin’s site, entitled Read Write Poem, where many of the poets worked in a style similar to yours. With that consistent influence, I became reasonably adept at a more free, eclectic style. That group of poets began to fragment when Dana’s site shut down, but several of us created splinter prompt sites that we published and monitored, to try to keep us together. My prompt site I published was Writer’s Island. I was also participating with Tess Kincaid’s Magpie Tales community, an interesting group that responded to the eclectic visual prompts Tess posted. Through all those years I enjoyed writing in a bit more free eclectic style. However, I became very ill a few years ago, which included two heart attacks, and a pacemaker implant — and stopped writing completely. After several more attempts to restart my writing, and more health related interruptions, I have finally resumed writing again, with sustained consistency, only this recent Spring. I love the group here at dVerse, there are fine poets here. And I am not unhappy with current efforts — but I miss the danger and inspiration of those “wide open years” back then. But hell, I am old, and I have lost my courage to stretch out. My mind is more comfortable now following my current, more linear approach. Sorry for all of this babbling and rambling Lucy. It started out to tell you that I really like what you do in your approach and execution, and am perhaps a bit jealous — having lost my grasp these days, on my more eclectic bravery. Glad you are participating at dVerse.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Rob, that sounds terrible what you have been through. I am so sorry and I hope you continue to be well and healthy. ❤ ❤

      I thank you for the kind words as well.

      Like

  6. I love when these myths are given life through the artistry of the poet. In your deft hands we have new terrors and explore the psychological threats at the core of the story. Beautifully written!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Every line is so beautiful in this piece. I really liked, “like the bare feet of winter, killed by glass mirrors” that makes one reflect with a shiver. This poem must be read with a warm coat and hot chocolate in hand!

    Liked by 1 person

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