AliceBelrose - Hello Poetry

I am a wilting flower Who awaits these long hours For my Sun to return So that I may bloom again – But He has been away For quite some time. I hope to see Him soon – And not only through The bright side of the Moon – Remind me of Your warmth, my Day Star – For it has been cold here For quite some time. I hear the constellations speak Your name – They wonder where You’ve gone – I wonder if the other planets Have called upon You To shine on them, too? I would follow after You, If only I could – But these roots of mine Do me no good In following after your Brilliance – For they were not created For light chasing – But to remain Steadfast – So, tell me the Truth, My dear – And do not tell it Slant – How I should continue To grow here without You? My Sun – In my waking dreams, Your luminescent beams So majestically shone – Are all I long to see – So, again, if I may query – Will You be there When I wake? I ask for my own sake – For I am a selfish flower Who so longs for the hour That she may see You Again.

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Apr 6

Apr 6, 2026 at 1:58 PM UTC

To My Friend, The Sun

I am a wilting flower Who awaits these long hours For my Sun to return So that I may bloom again – But He has been away For quite some time. I hope to see Him soon – And not only through The bright side of the Moon – Remind me of Your warmth, my Day Star – For it has been cold here For quite some time. I hear the constellations speak Your name – They wonder where You’ve gone – I wonder if the other planets Have called upon You To shine on them, too? I would follow after You, If only I could – But these roots of mine Do me no good In following after your Brilliance – For they were not created For light chasing – But to remain Steadfast – So, tell me the Truth, My dear – And do not tell it Slant – How I should continue To grow here without You? My Sun – In my waking dreams, Your luminescent beams So majestically shone – Are all I long to see – So, again, if I may query – Will You be there When I wake? I ask for my own sake – For I am a selfish flower Who so longs for the hour That she may see You Again.

45

Go softly into this night, Fluttering as you do — Not quite the butterfly are you (Though in this light, You may as well be.) The wind carries you through such Extraordinary dimensions — Quite the journey you have traveled Since the first unraveling! The darkness that once wound you — Kept you folded, neat, and still — Will not miss you — nor you it — For you are too busy — Busy, busy, busy! Much like the bee You bumble your way Over hills of hickory Tickling leaves That have not yet been freed From their prison of branches. You taunt them so — Flaunting your newfound freedom — Unabashedly — In all your winged complexity.

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Apr 3

Apr 3, 2026 at 4:40 PM UTC

Not Quite the Butterfly

Go softly into this night, Fluttering as you do — Not quite the butterfly are you (Though in this light, You may as well be.) The wind carries you through such Extraordinary dimensions — Quite the journey you have traveled Since the first unraveling! The darkness that once wound you — Kept you folded, neat, and still — Will not miss you — nor you it — For you are too busy — Busy, busy, busy! Much like the bee You bumble your way Over hills of hickory Tickling leaves That have not yet been freed From their prison of branches. You taunt them so — Flaunting your newfound freedom — Unabashedly — In all your winged complexity.

24

Dark purities Rest upon his lids – A certain sadness Pervades the eyes, Windows to the soul – There he rests – the brightest shadow – A simultaneous dark and light – A nostalgia for the unknown – A simple enigma – O' Child of the Stars.

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Mar 29

Mar 29, 2026 at 3:39 PM UTC

Star Child

Dark purities Rest upon his lids – A certain sadness Pervades the eyes, Windows to the soul – There he rests – the brightest shadow – A simultaneous dark and light – A nostalgia for the unknown – A simple enigma – O' Child of the Stars.

10

The scarlet thread unwinds Our crystalline entanglement – Once resplendently designed – Now drips from your bloodied fingernails As you drag them deeper, Deeper down. You tried to keep me with you – Tried to have me stay – Pleading, begging – Forcing Your heart upon mine, just to say "This is how True Love feels – This is how True Love grows – That is all I’ve ever known, That is all I will ever know." Meanwhile, the manifold of stars We used to admire as one Across incongruent climes Become misaligned And dangle sharply over our heads. A sword is there, too, Held above you By a paltry thread. I tried to warn you of it, once I knew – Tried to pull you out of its way – But you told me you had grown Accustomed to its shadow And its looming fulminations – A culmination of all you ever knew And all you ever grew to love. That was years ago – The stars have since shifted The thread has feathered and frayed – The sword has since fallen – And You have fallen with it, Into a place of deep, silent sorrow. This place of sorrow – I once knew it well, For we once fell into it Together – Crashing through mirrors – Cutting our fingers and tongues on the glass As we passed – And we found ourselves falling Again – and again – And again – In circles –

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Mar 29

Mar 29, 2026 at 9:52 AM UTC

In Circles

The scarlet thread unwinds Our crystalline entanglement – Once resplendently designed – Now drips from your bloodied fingernails As you drag them deeper, Deeper down. You tried to keep me with you – Tried to have me stay – Pleading, begging – Forcing Your heart upon mine, just to say "This is how True Love feels – This is how True Love grows – That is all I’ve ever known, That is all I will ever know." Meanwhile, the manifold of stars We used to admire as one Across incongruent climes Become misaligned And dangle sharply over our heads. A sword is there, too, Held above you By a paltry thread. I tried to warn you of it, once I knew – Tried to pull you out of its way – But you told me you had grown Accustomed to its shadow And its looming fulminations – A culmination of all you ever knew And all you ever grew to love. That was years ago – The stars have since shifted The thread has feathered and frayed – The sword has since fallen – And You have fallen with it, Into a place of deep, silent sorrow. This place of sorrow – I once knew it well, For we once fell into it Together – Crashing through mirrors – Cutting our fingers and tongues on the glass As we passed – And we found ourselves falling Again – and again – And again – In circles –

46

There was a Promise to be kept – I remembered it well; Blade of furtive devotion, Born of strife – I'd whisper this promise back to you Through the quietude Of my familiar abjection. Love, it was You Who kept my heart in respite – Docile, dutiful, pliant soul – You were never meant to leave this place On your own. I was meant to follow your lead; Yet, You, alighted on the Gap’s horizon, Waved a final goodbye While I, blissfully uninformed, Tossed and turned In Casar’s bed.

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Mar 28

Mar 28, 2026 at 6:21 PM UTC

A Promise

There was a Promise to be kept – I remembered it well; Blade of furtive devotion, Born of strife – I'd whisper this promise back to you Through the quietude Of my familiar abjection. Love, it was You Who kept my heart in respite – Docile, dutiful, pliant soul – You were never meant to leave this place On your own. I was meant to follow your lead; Yet, You, alighted on the Gap’s horizon, Waved a final goodbye While I, blissfully uninformed, Tossed and turned In Casar’s bed.

18

You return to me – An importunate, festering boil – An unremitting, bubbling pustule – A pulsing, oozing Mortified flesh of memory – You split your tongue To speak – in twain – Of false devotions – Saccharine professions Corroded by fetid confessions – I breathe their stench In my sleep While the dreams you hold captive Beg for their release.

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Mar 21

Mar 21, 2026 at 10:48 AM UTC

Untitled

You return to me – An importunate, festering boil – An unremitting, bubbling pustule – A pulsing, oozing Mortified flesh of memory – You split your tongue To speak – in twain – Of false devotions – Saccharine professions Corroded by fetid confessions – I breathe their stench In my sleep While the dreams you hold captive Beg for their release.

14

I watched after you Trailing softly through the yard, Roving back and forth Between the groves of oak and pine — Oh, how sweet the day had been. The trees stood like old companions — Their leaves a warm, familiar shade, Florets blooming as you moved among them. Nose to wind and back down again, You read hidden stories Folded into the air, Layered onto budded, tender fields. How I wished you could tell me Of all the gentle secrets you found. How I wished you could tell me Of all that you’d seen Between the bushels and the earthworm Coiling in the sun — Of all that you'd seen In the life you lived before me — And all that you will see In the life that follows After.

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Mar 16

Mar 16, 2026 at 10:53 AM UTC

A Poppy in the Fields

I watched after you Trailing softly through the yard, Roving back and forth Between the groves of oak and pine — Oh, how sweet the day had been. The trees stood like old companions — Their leaves a warm, familiar shade, Florets blooming as you moved among them. Nose to wind and back down again, You read hidden stories Folded into the air, Layered onto budded, tender fields. How I wished you could tell me Of all the gentle secrets you found. How I wished you could tell me Of all that you’d seen Between the bushels and the earthworm Coiling in the sun — Of all that you'd seen In the life you lived before me — And all that you will see In the life that follows After.

23

You ordered the ground To take me in — For Dust To become my ribs — You commanded Gossamer To become my gown And urged the Stone To roll — My love, my love — Is it true? Have you branded me the Fool In Perpetuum? For I never did suspect This lush and verdant Earth To Lure — I never did suspect Such smooth, Unblemished hands To Ensnare — My love, my love — Is it true? For I never did suspect Such a transcendent, Tender tongue To behold such benevolence And spew such rancor, too — I never did suspect Such supple, succulent lips To twist and curve and cut Just as the thorns do — Once, with tender words, You minded me — Once, with docile tongue, You called me “Friend” — O’, my love, For this, I never did suspect A revulsion so Potent To have released from you So Gently — Oh, my love — My love — Tonight, I only wish that Hindsight Would have come To sing me A prompt and timely tune; If only Fate Had been kind enough To grant me warning – Soon – My love, Maybe then, I would not be here Amongst the marigolds Yellowing against the setting sun Drifting along the meadows Amidst the fallen leaves And the dust — Aimless and unwanted.

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Mar 14

Mar 14, 2026 at 7:21 PM UTC

Love's Violence

You ordered the ground To take me in — For Dust To become my ribs — You commanded Gossamer To become my gown And urged the Stone To roll — My love, my love — Is it true? Have you branded me the Fool In Perpetuum? For I never did suspect This lush and verdant Earth To Lure — I never did suspect Such smooth, Unblemished hands To Ensnare — My love, my love — Is it true? For I never did suspect Such a transcendent, Tender tongue To behold such benevolence And spew such rancor, too — I never did suspect Such supple, succulent lips To twist and curve and cut Just as the thorns do — Once, with tender words, You minded me — Once, with docile tongue, You called me “Friend” — O’, my love, For this, I never did suspect A revulsion so Potent To have released from you So Gently — Oh, my love — My love — Tonight, I only wish that Hindsight Would have come To sing me A prompt and timely tune; If only Fate Had been kind enough To grant me warning – Soon – My love, Maybe then, I would not be here Amongst the marigolds Yellowing against the setting sun Drifting along the meadows Amidst the fallen leaves And the dust — Aimless and unwanted.

58

This is the issue With you logophiles — From your logged eye Your pleonasm — Your tautology — Your tenuous lexiphanes Are a rationalized Superiority — sculpted In alabaster vowels And lacquered tone. You genuflect towards Your own verbosity — Polished and pristine — While adding precious stones To a gilded noose Braided in adjectives.

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Mar 9

Mar 9, 2026 at 11:13 PM UTC

Logophilia

This is the issue With you logophiles — From your logged eye Your pleonasm — Your tautology — Your tenuous lexiphanes Are a rationalized Superiority — sculpted In alabaster vowels And lacquered tone. You genuflect towards Your own verbosity — Polished and pristine — While adding precious stones To a gilded noose Braided in adjectives.

16

Have you seen the old man’s garden? Have you heard of what he’s done? Deplumed from skies of opal, From us, he stole the sun — And he claims he did it all For his beloved Chrysanthemums — But stolen light bears stolen heat, And chrysanthemums, you see, Cannot themselves be bloomed While wholly consumed By the scorch of a red star That should have held its warmth From afar.

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Feb 1

Feb 1, 2026 at 7:48 AM UTC

The Old Man's Garden

Have you seen the old man’s garden? Have you heard of what he’s done? Deplumed from skies of opal, From us, he stole the sun — And he claims he did it all For his beloved Chrysanthemums — But stolen light bears stolen heat, And chrysanthemums, you see, Cannot themselves be bloomed While wholly consumed By the scorch of a red star That should have held its warmth From afar.

13