A time when louder
than taut drums our hearts would
as one beat and in the deepest sea of
revelry swim.
A time when my ravenous
heart with scythe in hand, its feet
to your heart as a bed of roses would hasten,
for its fragrance to harvest and relish.
A time in a sequestered scenic
rivulet bank where my somber heart into an
ecstatic inferno would be plunged by a sensation
that would be propelled by the sight of outlines of your
sexy lingerie by your spandex bared.
A time when our fissured
hearts would suture and as a leaf helplessly
falls; in love would we fall again.
Comments
sequestered somber ecstatic inferno sexy lingerie by your sp
sequestered
somber
ecstatic inferno
sexy lingerie by your
spandex bared.
NICE SEXY WORDS FOR my 100 poetic word DICTIONARY
in the offing
Hello Lovedly, I am so glad
Hello Lovedly, I am so glad you like those words.And thanks so much for reading.
You know this is really fucking weird, don't you, mate?
Quite disturbing imagery.
my ravenous
heart with scythe in hand, its feet
to your heart as a bed of roses would hasten
I see a human heart, dripping blood, with hands and feet like Spongebob Squarepants, wielding a scythe, runs through a bed of roses, leaving bloody footprints from the thorns, and (by implication) cuts out the beloved's heart with the scythe and eats it.
Is that what you meant?
In the next stanza the heart spontaneously combusts whilst perving at the beloved doing yoga.
And finally two hearts are surgically dissected then sutured together... eeww
It's not all my sick imagination is it?
What were your intentions here?
I actually likened her heart
I actually likened her heart as a bed of roses which i used as a symbol of ecstatic feelings and my ravenous heart with scythe in hand to harvest those roses and relish the fragrances.Jess each stanza actually stands on its own and it's a kind of imagination on what kind of feelings having a picnic with a loved one would bring.Picnic time with a loved one is actually a time most people yearn for to suture fractured hearts, relive old sweet memories.
Perhaps it is mostly my sick imagination
yet I think you might want to reconsider the way the poem comes across as a whole and the use of the surgical term 'suture'. Remember picnics are about eating and you do say ravenous.
I think I get your vision, mixing it up with modern and classical imagery, just not sure it works unless you intended irony.