Nocturne
Laughter’s dear, so you chose the gift
of lasting tears for me:
such splendid economy
as no woman’s thrift
could ever hope to claim. This memento
will survive unrusted
my soul salt encrusted
with each unbidden overflow.
And journey’s end will find
my gaunt effigy encrypted
in the carapace you gifted,
pickled in precious brine.
***
of lasting tears for me:
such splendid economy
as no woman’s thrift
could ever hope to claim. This memento
will survive unrusted
my soul salt encrusted
with each unbidden overflow.
And journey’s end will find
my gaunt effigy encrypted
in the carapace you gifted,
pickled in precious brine.
***
Labels: poetry
Selected by SPECKLED_BAND |
06:55 |
5 Comments:
Beautiful! But what gets you here? Poetry like this makes me wonder more about the poet as well, where's the fount whence this springs?
This is one Joyce I admire ;-) Great stuff S_Band! The imagery & choice of words are perfect for the theme! Beautiful!
I think it is a great drift of thought . . .
In the spirit of "imitation is the best for of flattery"
I could suggest carrying on with the gift-thrift
rhyme perhaps -- "with each unbidden drift" comes
to mind naturally -- but the precious brine -
could it be "covered in briny shift," one wonders...
This poem cries out, "I'm sad, I'm a sad poem!" and it truly touches a chord. But there's a hint of humour, like "pickled in precious brine", "such splendid economy as no woman's thrift", that I can't help but smile bemused. Its like looking back on bitter memories without the bitterness, in fact with a touch of sadistic pleasure, almost.
on a lighter note - you've been in a pretty pickle there, haven't you :D
but nice....
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