Yes, I have brought her home again,
to ravish my sinning soul, spur it on
towards the dark crevices of my heart,
where nothing from the past remains!
Yes, I have let her in my blood again,
to spread across my limbs, bones and mind
to poison my thoughts with a rage,
that’s darker than the darkest pits of Hell!
Now her potency is in my brittle veins,
on its way back to my lone heart,
I feel so vividly the emptiness
it has taken to and left at my limbs!
She is from the same stuff as dreams,
this I can proclaim most certainly from
the way she let me transcend to the state,
where nothing is the way it seems!
.
Loved this .
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what if it is a drug in the poet’s vein that’s being talked about?
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A woman’s love laced with poison I thought .
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they are all the same… you can flush a drug out of your veins by drinking enough water… but a poisoned love is perpetual… you have a keen sense!
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I know exactly . After being all looney for a bit , I announced to Mr Unrequited that I needed rehab to get that poisoned love out of me. No such luck though 😦
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yes, love is about the only thing there is no rehab from!
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Should we work on an idea then ? We could be on Shark Tank too ! Lol
And we will never be out of business !
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that would be a novel experience! 😀
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Am going to call you AR , if you don’t mind. The special friends / bloggers et al I go with initials . Hope that’s ok ?
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of course… and I am A Rebel 😉 and no matter what name you call a weed, it will always smell heady!
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A Rebel ! Like that ! Yeah , and the poems are intoxicating too , as you can see, am more or less addicted already !
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Amen! may your addiction be eternal!
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As long as you stay afflicted . Amen .
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I am marked for life by poetry, both with and without the ‘V’ (poetry and poverty)
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Ah! One with a treasure such as you possess , is never really impoverished . I loved the way you put it though 🙂
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thank you!
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Love that last line… Nothing is the way it seems…. It is all a mystery, this existence! Bravo once again.
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I dare say, our existence is nothing but a shroud of mystery wrapped around a heap of broken images… n’est, ce pas?
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Ah…is not our existence everything…and nothing… bien sûr, mon ami?
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Vive l’amitié! …. 😀 I have run out of my meager stock.
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Really lovely Amit. Some poisons are addictive 🙂
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Thanks, yes they are and the poison of rebellion is the most potent among all!
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Nice reference. I actually have just finished writing a poem which is somewhat linked to rebellion but in a subtle way 🙂
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Your being a poet is a grand rebellion in itself against the ‘Angel in the House’ according to Virginia Woolf. So I guess whatever you write ought to be tinged with rebellion either with vehemence or subtlety, no? Looking forward to read the poem on your blog.
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You’re very right and quoting Woolf makes you even more so 😀
Thanks for the heads up 🙂
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You are welcome!
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