Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"senesce" poems
In an understanding of woman's intuition as it sinks, Passion flowers petals fall, As bachelors blue buttons diminshed, dishevelled tumble from grace, In a heap of crumpled calico, White and pure, Used to mop the tears of weeping doom, Tears sealed with loneliness extreme, Forever and eternal in a never ending dream, In a world of sacred senesce, Where true love vanishes into the mist of time, Erased by darkness, Reminscent remnants of nightmares, Which once invaded two sweet hearts, Love in reality being doli-incapax, as she's novel, So new so young so fresh! (Doli-Incapax, means incapable of evil in Latin, it is a legal term discussing the age of a child to have criminal responsibility, I just thought that as my love is new and young that it was an apt expression to use to describe the fact that love doesn't have the intention of being evil, some logic in here somewhere! ) By ladylivvi1 © 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
0
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 4:01 AM UTC
In an Understanding!
"The trees have already begun to senesce" my professor says, as she indicates the oak whose leaves have been colored to dirt. And a chord is struck in me, for without her definition I know what it is to senesce. This is what it is to shed my leaves, to watch their fingers wither and release my autumn comes crisp and crunches under rubber soles, it feels like a barren womb. All I give birth to is empty spaces between fingers of dusk and silhouettes of dark against light. Crookedness is my legacy, and exposure is my blight. And yet if I am like those dying branches then I too must come awake again. To senesce is to die, yet only for a time spring is ahead, and she is waiting. And I will follow, follow that thought like deer prints in the snow, like the sparrow's straining song, like green blades lifting their arms, like the smell of the earth swallowing the rain, like there is a time when death will not call my name so sweetly that I choose the dream over waking. That I too will shed my ice and become heavy with the weight of fragrant flowers.
0
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 7:32 PM UTC
Senescence