blood on hands.

i am alone; the skull of rocks

grimace at the clown winter. In the starry epitaph,

I wash this blood from my hands;

the moon is my child

and the shore is a memory

exiled; entering alone,

it bares the imitation

epithet, known as our death-

sentence.  

Dreams atrophied like

the first bite of the apple,

and the last of the black lily;

broken minds, let the worms kill us

why not? The midday star falls like a bolide

in a selfhood of breasted

dismay.

© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.


Written for the dVerse prompt: Write a poem using the word clown or a word – real or created – with clown as the root.


50 responses to “blood on hands.”

    • Thank you for reading my piece and for today’s dVerse prompt. It’s really unique!

      Now, I’m curious, what do you think that line means?

      I was thinking of the river of Lethe and forgetfulness in this piece. It’s the overall theme in this poem—memories and how losing them is either good/bad over time; along with how we can feel our identity is misplaced.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Your poem is non-linear and darker than the inside of a bat cave. I love the close “the midday star falls like a bolide in a selfhood of breasted dismay”. Thanks for the word “bolide”. I will us it soon, if I can remember it. I have often thought about choosing 6 obscure words from the dictionary, and building a poem around them.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I agree with Jane about the echoes of Shakespeare, the Bible and mythology, Lucy. Your poem is deliciously dark and I love the way you springboard from Lady Macbeth’s bloody hands into the realms of memory. My favourite lines are:
    ‘i am alone; the skull of rocks
    grimace at the clown winter’,
    which hint at the loneliness of old age and dementia, which is confirmed in ‘the shore is a memory exiled’ and ‘broken minds’. I also love the phrase ‘a selfhood of breasted dismay’ – I know that feeling.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. kaykuala

    it bares the imitation
    epithet, known as our death-sentence.

    It appears to be turning gory but there is a lot of humour within your seriouness of write! Wonderful twist to it Lucy!

    Hank

    Liked by 1 person

  4. am alone; the skull of rocks
    grimace at the clown winter’,

    Dreams atrophied like
    the first bite of the apple,

    —-Dark and raw and shivery! I love it! The shadow side of life.

    Liked by 2 people

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