This Poem Is…..

 

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courtesy: google Image

This poem is a color, a gender and a meaning.

 

This poem is a tiny bloom with a color.

This poem is the upbringing of a girl.

This poem is a magnifying glass looking for a meaning.

 

This poem is born in fire and darkness,

but it has a will to drift in the breeze like fragrance.

It wishes to fling away its pink hue to the blue sky.

It is the core of all tints, shades and tones.

This poem is a tiny bloom with a color.

 

 

This poem is an open hearth furnace.

It is a story of heat to remove impurities.

This poem is suffocation itself and all devouring.

It knows too well how to melt iron and free will.

This poem is the upbringing of a girl.

 

This poem is a pair of curious eyes.

It is a hunt for the essence of all objects.

This poem never tires and has the strength of steel.

The poem doesn’t believe in hindrance.

This poem is a magnifying glass looking for meaning.

 

 

This poem is a fragrant flower

with the soul of all colors.

This poem is the magnificent life of a strong willed girl.

The poem is a quest for finding love and life’s meaning.

 

 

(I wish to dedicate this poem to Adhik Kadam a young man from the state of Maharashtra, India. A Profile In Courage Indeed. Link )

 

The poem is written in Boomerang Metaphor Form created by Hannah Gosselin of Metaphors and Smiles

 

Posted for Sanaa’s Prompt Nights – When diving into the possibilities of Role Reversal – [36]

 

&

 

For Elizabeth’s Creativity Challenge Day 5 where the word for the day was ‘meaning’ as in value.

 

&

 

Also to be shared with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

 

The Despot and His Subjects

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Courtesy: Google Image

Our life is a fire dampened, or a fire shut up in stone.
–Jacob Boehme, De Incarnatione Verbi

 

 

Out of his spinnerets

came those silken threads of lies.

We were led

into that sticky orb web

where he lay in wait for us;

We’re now reaping darkness;

though our hearts are turning into stones

we’re nurturing the fire

shut up there.

He is sightless.

We gather

await

for the strike

to devastate each

spiral strand

with our flame

and birth light.

 

 

Posted for MTB – Caravaggio and Chiaroscuro over @ dVerse hosted by Bjorn