Photograph by Lili Roze which I discovered at beautiful blog Abundance
Red
The world burst out
Of its own maps
And gods changed their names
People talked till Babylon fell
While my heart grew
Into a bitter rose
That bled for you.
I handed you that flower
We did not feast on its perfume together.
It was given to me
By the winged master of Muses
To celebrate a most terrible union
That is called seperation
And is red torment to the
Hundreth power
That is purest and blackest of all
Judith Mok
(poem sent to me by an angel)
I love reading poems so much. Thanks for posting this one. =)
Posted by: Rouenna | 06/21/2010 at 02:50 PM
my heart has just started beating faster...
Posted by: Emé Vandal | 06/23/2010 at 07:53 PM
The chords of my heart have been twanged forcibly by the power of the poem. My memories Sigh!
Posted by: Patrick Cuddihy | 06/24/2010 at 12:04 PM
It's a wonderful wonderful poem!!
Posted by: Silent Storyteller | 06/25/2010 at 07:26 PM