Bleeding into the night by her red cape

alas! it was her dire desire to drive

my heart, into a bull broken beside

by her red cape, bleeding into the night,

painting sullen soil with fingers that slide

in pools of her vestige, a snide sewage

of cognition of her, her presence saved,

it lingers in the air, her perfume made

from marigolds papered from ashen face,

that turned away from my sight, not to nurse

my wounds stained by steel, of her solemn church

of apathy, of angst, of ache, much worse

than what shows on her portrait in my purse,

a remnant of her, a part with me back,

lumping my love, there ain’t no pain like that

.

A little too late… for dVerse Meeting the Bar, where Mr. Tony Maude commenced the game of Bouts-rimés.

A Happy Valentines’ Day to the love birds. And the rest of you who are just like me, go eat some chocolate. I had a coconut candy instead. 🙂

Image source

Note(16 Feb): I have two new pieces written but I am just not in the mood of editing. Therefore, I am submitting the link of this one for Poetry Pantry. I will be here and there, fleeting from one to place to another, but I will reach you in the end to enrich myself with your words. Have a good day. 🙂

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30 thoughts on “Bleeding into the night by her red cape

  1. Wow, Anmol – there are some clever adaptions of the rhyme words here; slide (lied) is genius and sewage is one I would never have thought of either. That girl doesn’t seem to be treating you too well though …

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  2. This has to be one of my favorite poems I have read from you.. really great how your used those words and twisted them.. I can feel an little beat poetry into that sadness… I agree with Brian.. one of my favs if this was ever a competition.

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  3. Glenn Buttkus says:

    Yes, your lines were excellent, and your interpretation of the words was very creative; liked the line /from marigolds paper from ashen face/l; excellent job, Anmol.

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  4. Ouch, what an ending! A fabulously delivered heartpiece HA, I loved these lines especially:”painting sullen soil with fingers that slide

    in pools of her vestige, a snide sewag”

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  5. There are two kinds of love poems and this is the other kind. I like how you set the poem up visually– makes it read better and very clearly when we’re at the bottom, we’re there. I really like the line “marigolds with ashen face” very clear, very real. We’ve all been there, if you feel at all….

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  6. Not having taken up the challenge from dVerse, I can’t speak to the use of their words, but standing alone this poem explodes itself into visual and painfully colored images that both appall and thrill. Oh that a gored person could be so poetic about his apathetic hunter!

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  7. The whole flow & formatting of your piece leads to a powerful read. I especially like this part: it lingers in the air, her perfume made / from marigolds papered from ashen face, / that turned away from my sight, not to nurse / my wounds stained by steel, of her solemn church—these lines has an excellent feel to it. Smiles.

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  8. Lovely weaving of words, nothing is forced at all~
    Specially like:

    it lingers in the air, her perfume made
    from marigolds papered from ashen face

    Hope to see you at OLN this Tues ~

    Like

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