burning crooked roses

coyotes yip !

as i walk through baby cyclones

up the stairs to the sky

as she remained

on sweating rocking horse

deeply sea pearl glint in eye,

oh is there anything else other

than immortality,

reward and wisdom,

have i become the dog

that runs through muddy rivers

to wash the gasoline of brutality off,

i will never see an algae

covered stone coffin,

horse keeps rocking

travelling this

unremarkable earth machine,

stairs behind me

as are leaking babies

and crushed beercans,

no cloud castle

old vagrants song rings softly,

weeping in whitman’s embrace

i have left human shape

finger shadows reach

as frozen spider would,

my once and fevered love

rides on

poetry , poem

7 thoughts on “burning crooked roses

  1. Chris, there’s a lot of good imagery here and there’s a couple of ways to read this. At first I thought this was a “cowboy” poem but I noticed your tags which say it’s meant as a love poem, or a broken hearted love poem.

    I think you could change a few words and edit it a little to make that clearer. There are two uses of the word “baby” and I don’t think either are meant to imply a real baby. Those “mini” tornadoes you speak of are called “dirt devils” in west Texas and that might serve you here (not sure). I felt “earth machine” was a little futuristic when juxtaposed with the horse metaphor which in itself gave a sort of Don Quixote subtext as well as perhaps the sexual one (nevertheless rocking horse in itself has the meaning of a children’s toy – so that muddies that metaphor a little I think). I think you need to place your characters early and make it clear where they are in the metaphorical space of the poem, then we can take the “ride” with them.

    It has the potential to be both a very powerful and fresh poem but I think it needs a bit more directing first. Thanks.


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