deep into truncated roses.

I hung onto
the fragmented root
from her deathbed, the lips,
deep into truncated roses;

It was the ghost
that fluttered in my heart
wanting to die. Muse, muse,
my ailments, my garden bloodletter
I lived to see it gone
and another depression
in the rose bush was born,

I consorted first
the row of angels
like cards, seeking the death
of my cynicism (it’s like cyanide), to the trill in my chest
like a bathing bird;
her vale to show her face

I pulled back the insanity
from my bones; a bovine crown
of thorns should rest on my head,
I am bygone in the simplicity
of madness, my emotions settled on love’s procacity
on its technicolor nightmare
like a stilled photograph; it’s in my mind, each velvet dream
and garden of paper-trees
that I sigh across the false prayer, this hiccup in a moment
evaporating upon fear
orgasmic in the ammonia-ic leaf
she smiles from.

© 2021 Pseudopsychosis All Rights Reserved.


Written for the 7/20/2021 dVerse prompt: Who’s your muse?

As I’m pressed for time at the moment, I’ll come back later with an explanation of my muses.

Back. This poem is derived from what stirs my muse and inspires it: Love. I often have love on the mind when I write poetry, believe it or not. So maybe I’m a sap but it pushes me a lot, whether it’s familial, platonic, or romantic love. It’s a big inspiration for me as I generally have a figure of one of those in mind when writing. I guess you can say I was more drawn by Erato than Melpomene for this prompt.

But make no mistake where love lies, there is hate as well. 😀 It’s the copout explanation, though. I am really inspired by love, but I just twist it around viscerally.

My next poem I plan to target Melpomene.


73 thoughts on “deep into truncated roses.”

    1. Wow! I am certainly at a loss for words. It took some time for me to dissect this poem, but its captivating brilliance, by no means evades me. I’m so excited to read more of your poetry! (I’ve also subscribed to your blog)

      Liked by 2 people

  1. Well, you have left me a challenge to guess which Muse inspired you. And my guess is…Melpomene! I love the hints of rhyme, the hints at madness, the pleading with the Muse, and the cynicism like cyanide – brilliant!

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Thank you so, so much! And you are close, I was more inspired by Erato than Melpomene (though I think I should write about Melpomene next when I get the chance; I love tragedies). This poem to me is a dark love poem, as my muses are often inspired by love.

      Liked by 3 people

  2. This darkly beautiful Lucy. I so admire this part:

    on its technicolor nightmare
    like a stilled photograph; it’s in my mind, each velvet dream
    and garden of paper-trees
    that I sigh across the false prayer

    Liked by 3 people

  3. Back to form, love drenched in ebon shadows, rife with sterling word-smithing. I liked “I am bygone in the simplicity of madness”. As Zorba said, “we all need a little madness.” I could detect Erato at the get; nice rocking of the prompt.

    Liked by 3 people

  4. Man, I love a bunch of this. Such startling and apt images, “The ghost that fluttered in my heart”, “the row of angels, like cards”, and the “garden of paper trees”, to name a few. This is what poetry is, not prose, not ordinary language. Plus I learned a new word–procacity. Good stuff!

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Aww, thank you so much! ❤ ❤ I agree, poetry should not be just ordinary language and I am flattered you feel my poetry accomplishes this. Thank you for your kind words!

      Liked by 3 people

  5. Cynicism is a real driver… especially in our time. Such a great poem and wonderful images and metaphors. I enjoyed your back story and the way love and hate are still part of the same family.

    Liked by 3 people

  6. I especially love this stanza:

    It was the ghost
    that fluttered in my heart
    wanting to die. Muse, muse,
    my ailments, my garden bloodletter
    I lived to see it gone
    and another depression
    in the rose bush was born,

    And also the last one.

    my emotions settled on love’s procacity
    on its technicolor nightmare
    like a stilled photograph; it’s in my mind, each velvet dream
    and garden of paper-trees
    that I sigh across the false prayer, this hiccup in a moment
    evaporating upon fear
    orgasmic in the ammonia-ic leaf
    she smiles from.

    I have read your poem 4 times and each time, I find new little nests of meaning and little moments of “aha!” I had to look up procacity. You and your muse sound like you have a difficult relationship. 🙂 But, on the upside, the struggles elicit amazing lines and turns of phrase!

    Liked by 3 people

  7. Very powerful…I can feel the emotions surging through. “I pulled back the insanity
    from my bones;” — dark and evocative word artistry, Lucy. Love it!

    Liked by 3 people

  8. Lucy, I always enjoy reading your words. You’re always so illustrative in what you write, and the images you paint are a jarring combination of beauty and tragedy. Nicely done review of doing battle with your muse.

    Liked by 3 people

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