Buck Moon ~ Part One: Departing from Pavements

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The taste of world’s last dance lingers upon my lips;
an orb of liquid fire,
where the skin of my grief sheds its leaves—
written in dark letters
upon every single page, it refuses to bite dust, to move ahead.
Name these feelings of mine
as I bequeath my mortality to you, a honeyed nectar
in a chalice half full— one that scrys into for answers;
that’s how the story progresses,

poignant and cleansing the heart of its saltiness.
In defense of dystopia, I am a Poet first
then a realist, dusting roses along the way;

thirty-three years and Spring is over,
my intellect demands that I depart from pavements—
a glossy black asphalt that mourns the living
and leads
to the past, morbidly cold to the touch; it does not breathe.
Why must we chase that which has no desire to be pursued?
The moon, a chaotic rhythm
born of soul; it’s all right to let go, it’s all right to let go.

 

 

 

Photo credits: The Mirage by Alexander Yakovlev, Pinterest

Posted for Weekly Scribblings @ Poets and Storytellers United

26 Replies to “Buck Moon ~ Part One: Departing from Pavements”

  1. It was lovely to hear you this poem, Sanaa. The opening lines hooked me immediately – I love the image of the world’s last dance as an orb of liquid fire, lingering on lips. I also like the echo of the orb in the chalice half full of honeyed nectar – poem of golden tones broken up by the dark letters of grief. Great use of alliteration in ‘defence of dystopia’ and the image of a poet ‘dusting roses along the way;’ is stunning.

  2. Sad words and sad voice. Such feelings linger with us a long time . Somehow we have to be strong and bear the pain and know that we can get over it and be happy again. It was lovely to hear your voice Sanaa.

  3. Lovely words … ‘I am a Poet first then a realist’ ~ relieved you are a poet first … realism can wait a bit I hope.

  4. Sometimes it’s more than all right to let go–it’s absolutely necessary. But hearts in love sometimes need the tale to be told gently, just to make that first bit of letting go possible.

  5. “In defense of dystopia, I am a Poet first
    then a realist, dusting roses along the way
    Very interesting lines. The kind that keeps me in contemplation

    Happy Wednesday

    Much💖love

  6. Sign of finality? ” I bequeath my mortality to you…” and things get scary. You live while I die? All pretty dark but I still like it.
    Thanks for the nice prompt, I used the picture you had here earlier of the two young grass growing from the cracks in the pavement. (I tried to leave a comment, but that wasn’t working so I’m trying again.)
    Stay Safe,
    ..

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