#dahlia
Black Dahlia tears,
Beckoned beneath the crimson,
Bloodbath gleamed garden.
Aug 4, 2023
Aug 4, 2023 at 4:09 AM UTC
Im a dew drop on dahlia,
My fate says to "unite with the soil",
I'll return to my home under the moon,
To glitter with my companions,
ah! the stars.
I'll watch the ocean roar, city lights wink, and places of my dreams.
You may grieve as I depart but don't you worry,
For, my path is adorned.
So, I walk through the scented flowers and star dust,
As I leave behind my memories, towards the "better place",
All evening the softest sound- drifting to the eternity....
Jun 17, 2021
Jun 17, 2021 at 8:25 AM UTC
A garden of dahlia
Where memories are stored
The moonlight shines upon the flowers
My heart is buried under
They shine bright during the autumn
Like my love for you during the summer
So breezy in the spring
Now my soul is frozen like winter
The dahlias hold the memory of us together
I was left drunk gazing at it
I smile while my tear rolled down my cheek
And land on the flower
If only I could hold you once more
Like how I hold these flowers
I won't let go of you when you're in my arms
Because we both lost each other before
Jun 5, 2021
Jun 5, 2021 at 4:00 AM UTC
Dried-out sweat, tired-out eyes
Placards coated in reds and blacks
Hair strands wet, vermillion skies
Whiteout sneakers underneath slacks
Chipping bricks adorned with dusk's glow
Soft thuds drown in bustling sidewalks
Concrete walls enrobed in guised woes
Like calls of Cincinnati clocks
Down the path's lead, an alley lies
Only known by a few handful
An easy shortcut for the wise
A definite route for the fool
Empty blocks pampered in ruins
Grow dahlia shrubs in feeble soil
Yet cherished by passing humans
As they perceive in gleeful toil
Click, clack. Tip, tap.
Echoing the narrow pathway
Click, clack. Tip, tap. Click, clack. Tip, tap.
Reverberating the walkway
Gush of summer coldness trickles
Playing with thin skin's hair to stand
Along evening's hazy drizzles
Until lips' beam's closed by a hand
Frozen. Motionless. Absolute.
Pulsating ears, vibrating fears
I, the troubled, straightaway mute
Searching for comfort in fresh tears
Frigid, sharp blade graze flesh through clothes
Algid, rough palms tightened their grip
With trembling mouth, whimpers in lows
Time's ticking, closer to the tip
"How dare you go against!?" he yells
His voice falling on deaf pavements
Alike encaging prison cells
Beneath wretched, worn-out basements
Writhed free from his desperate hold
Unclasped myself, away I go
Yet burly hands grab my shirt's fold
On my side, planting the grand blow
The night weakens, the knife deepens
Meeting downcast eyes as I stare
Remorseless, the demon wakens
No plans—this petty soul—to spare
Deafening shrieks still ring my ears
The masses' cries of unjustness
Voices crystal clear amid tears
Demur of headstrong robustness
Earlier's protest fresh in mind
Echoing as I reminisced
Realized the shrills' suit unfeigned
Are screams from my own throat's abyss
Away from the hustling streetscape
For anyone to hear my plea
In desperate crawls to escape
He lifts the wood in counts of three
Bashed head meet placards to shatter
Jagged splinters abrade my face
Entwined with rain's pitter-patter
To finish me off, just in case
Each and every breath nears to none
Boulevard of dreams come broken
The mist douse this limp body done
I take my last, eyes wide open
Dried-out life, tired-out cries
Pebbles coated in reds and blacks
****** palms rife, obsidian skies
Lone witnessed—mum dahlias on cracks.
Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 7:14 AM UTC
They say she's dumb
I see in her eyes that she wants to run.
She has a son
She holds so highly
he keeps her warm.
He is her sun.
She needs him near, to keep her here.
As they look down on her she feels their eyes yet she looks away
For she wants no praise.
Yes, she wishes it was different;
but ,this is the plate she was given.
Yes, it looks bad to them so they keep their distance.
Yet
They don't see that
she goes the distance.,
Broken inside
she's lost so much that, she'd end her life ,,in an instant.
But her boys eyes..
That's her insentive .
They see her insensitive
Her eyes say the opposite, full of emotion, she has no choice but to bottle it.
,,, Happiness afar yet she continues to follow it.
The pain that they Wollow in , she swolows it.
Swolow it, she bottles it.
Nov 20, 2019
Nov 20, 2019 at 12:53 PM UTC
Barn swallows swarm in the nests near the ridge of the roof – they never fly away for the winter because summer in that garden is not ruled by the calendar.
Pears always ripen there, sweet purple grapevines are covered with wasps and apples fall right on to the table…
Here I will always cut flowers into bouquets and make wreaths of dainty mummy’s dahlias and cosmos…
I’ll always collect my herbs and press them to dry in an old book. I just want to preserve my memories…
…how our kitten caught the lizard and how I plucked her to safety. How I held her small body in the palm of my hand and studied the patterns on her skin. How still she was…resigned to her fate. This time you’re in luck, babe. I let you go to the warm cover of the well… you disappeared just like that…will you survive the winter?
I can already feel the coolness of autumn and wrap myself in a blanket to sit down on the porch to sip my tea.
I do the same things I have done so many times in my life…
...ever since you showed me how at midnight Ursa Major and her baby bear walk around our roof, how a salty, starry road leads south and drops its stars in our garden…over and over again in a circle…
The only thing I am sure of now is that shooting stars pay no heed at all to our wishes – they just burn up in the atmosphere and leave no trace behind.
Sep 28, 2019
Sep 28, 2019 at 12:17 PM UTC
He said he brought me a flower
I expected a rose, but he handed me a Dahlia
"Rose's aren't my type" he told me
In a garden of a hundred perfect flowers
He didn't choose some carbon-copy crimson petals
He saw in me what he didn't in them
He saw something unique, or as he put it
"Something promising a forever"
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 1:48 AM UTC
1
malice so gelidly plated
on the day of the parting
an old fading rose not receiving love
her bitter heart icy in grief
11
the fresher bloom captivated
his soul with an exceeding depth
a budding beauty so glorious
of splendour he'd prefer to hold
111
words exchanged between
which made for a catty scene
out came the elder woman's claws
wanting to scratch the dahlia's eyes
1V
and the allure of newer flower
he'd ever keep
as the ancient wrinkles
in time did finally creep
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 7:48 AM UTC