Sunday 4 November 2018

PSYCHE

Psyche


Through cosmic windows
in the unbounded expanse
in which all matter exists
or does not exist
 
Psyche traces
the orbital paths
of lovers
 Two lost souls
on parallel planes
who may never unite
 
Mirrored images
not yet conceived
 
Psyche draws
them into dreams
depicting Love's
concentric spheres
Subliminal messages
not yet perceived
by their conscious minds
 
Until - one day -
when purely by chance
their eyes should meet

                                                                         © Rose

Thursday 25 October 2018

No One Hears

No one Hears

 
everyone listens
but nobody hears
a cheek glistens
with silent tears
shouting won't make
a blind man see
crying won't ease
the misery

colours are fading
turning to grey
shadows are braiding
the last light of day
a monochrome halo
hangs in the sky
the scornful echo
of a seagulls cry

night keeps its vigil
so paint your dreams ~
amongst clouds dismal
a miracle gleams ~
night brings its silence
that deadens and deafens
night brings its own sentence 
........nobody listens.......
ⒸRose

Tuesday 9 October 2018

The Wind And The Sea

The Wind And The Sea

Stained with the wilful moods
of the tempestuous sky
the concupiscent sea sings
to the wanton wind
waves arched into undulating
curves
heaving, cresting, caressing
soliciting the wind
tempting him
with her allure
desiring his
stimulating touch
to kindle, to ignite, to inflame
her arousal
until in union
their lusty
motion, emotion, elation
rises and falls
surges and swirls in an
ardent dance
erupting 
onto the shore
spilling over
long dark tresses
of seaweed
shadows
that lie glistening
in the moonlight
upon the pale naked sand
ⓒRose  

Sunday 7 October 2018

Good Night Sadness

Good Night Sadness

 
I lie in bed staring at the ceiling
I know it's every line
I know how the shadows fall
and wait for them 
to hide the sadness 
written there
before I close my eyes

I slip into a dream
bleak and bare as the ceiling
Even the moon is bare
and cold as stone
 
A watchful tree stands
rigid, silent, accusing
 
A violin begins
to keen piteously
 
A butterfly -  merely
a fragile shadow of itself
flutters, trapped
in an erratic flight
 
A rose weeps
a putrid bouquet

There are no shadows
here
Here there is no
 escape
from the sadness
written on
the ceiling
©Rose
 
This piece was inspired by Paul Eluard
'Adieu tristesse/ bonjour tristesse/ Tu es inscrite dans les
lignes du plafond'

Thursday 4 October 2018

Theatre of the Absurd (Repost)

Theatre of the Absurd



The head/face in this image is a photograph of a reflection that appeared on the wall. Don't ask me to explain it - I can't - but there has to be a logical explanation for it I just haven't found it yet. Anyways, it freaked me out so I paired it up with an image of the moon ( it looks as though it belongs there).

just a face
in the crowd
of a meaningless
universe
midst arcane
echoes
of abstruse
dialogues
and tired
cliches
just an
incongruous
character
in the theatre
of the absurd

©Rose

Saturday 29 September 2018

CONSERVATION (Repost - Sad Elephant)

Sad Elephant


I love elephants and this one below just looked so miserable I felt so bad for him. The elephants in general seemed to be really moody and unhappy - I came away from them feeling really sad :(
While our lives leach
through the porous
warp and weft
of alien foundations
Our native memories
grow pale and then fade
behind our downcast eyes
And like a straw
in the wind
imprudence sweeps
conservation
into the cracks
of extinction
whilst civilisation
looks on
© Rose

Sunday 23 September 2018

Neon Sunsets (repost)

Neon Sunsets

between neon sunsets
and concrete dawns
in a city that never sleeps
we are robbed of our dreams

on a bed of lies
and broken promises
we drift apart
weaving dreams
of another time
but it's all a lie

we drift apart
conceiving dreams
as time ticks over

our emotions
cocooned
in hostile womb
waiting
to be expelled
like afterbirth
and
like frail moths
they too will be drawn

to the lights, the pulse
of the city that never sleeps
dying to live, living to die
between concrete dawns
and neon sunsets
© Rose

Monday 14 August 2017

It's Complicated

It's complicated
how I hate the phrose
'it's complicated'
a tactic used deliberately
to conceal the truth
Nature is simple
it reflects only
itself
©Rose