You sit there and have the audacity to question why this rose withered….
Meanwhile you think it was the first betrayal
You stepping when you weren’t looking
That’s what ignites this flame
That’s what keeps this fire burning
It wasn’t the first step on my back
It’s what you did after
Things could have been fixed
The solution was right there!!
You could have picked me up off the ground
You could have given me water
The truth was seen!
and you still turned away
That’s why
When will you wake up
You smothered this rose with your feet
You damaged it
But still it wasn’t dead
You never thought to put it in a vase
You can add some auga
Instead you chopped it
Thinking it could replaced
You stepped on it
Not even once
But ten times!
So don’t sit there and wonder
This rose was never upset about your first mistake
Those can be forgiven
Your lack of knowledge
Your lack of awareness
Your lack of accountability
That’s what killed this rose
You shall never smell one as sweet
One as thorny
One as imperfectly perfect
Have fun with the weeds
I Love It, sounds Biblical In a way. Please write more. God Bless You.
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Well done. I feel like a Dandelion. 😦
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As a person who wasted almost a decade of their life and most of their money to weed of all things… As a person who took for granted his family and intimate relations… A college dropout who once had high prospects… You’re right.
I’ll never get to smell a rose so sweet.
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You sound like you have taken accountability… I think you will smell the sweetest
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That’s so beautiful!!
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The apparently simple invective, written in the trobairitz (female troubador from 12th / 13th century Provence) style and filled with the slow and non-lethal American venom of the spurned (a tarantula bite won’t kill but will hurt a lot) is lit with the interior light of hope –> a close reading of this passage partly shows how or why –>
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In everyday language, longing is revealed As water or For water, the most fluid element and the most mysterious… But the powerful grammatic distortion in “That’s why / When will you wake up” using word play and syntax play for utmost effect says it all… The intended audience for the poem fucked up massively, the poet has decided to cruelly but justifiably reveal what they have missed out on just to avoid a little thorn-spilled blood. I love your poems and painting. Both are excellent, pioneering and extremely feminine (while not surrendering the powerful female agency and influence of feminism)
AWESOME WORK THANKS SO MUCH FOR SHARING
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