Untitled (treading along the grasses of reverie)

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Her kiss tastes like every dark thought I’d ever had,
vanta black bewilderment
as berries within silverness of meadows burst with indignation.
The sky flows immortal,
soft clattering of clouds where peace once shimmered,
what; oh what eats away,
sighing, stretching still along the banks of a temple that’s thrown
you into exile.

Such a sacrilege, hours caught in the clutches of eternity
gone rogue,
till this day it remains an anomaly,
that spiders unseen weave tales of her plight,
leave your marks upon her lips;
owning every inch,
she admits it to herself and no one else,
how vengeance draws a perfect circle when these strange days
have passed;
when these strange days have passed.

I, medusa crowned with twining serpents, do claim
the atrocities
committed against me, lemon chiffon state of unrest,
I am a little soft and a lot rough
treading along the grasses of reverie, never stopping,
pray tell,
what have you to say to me?

Your midnight dreams are simply more than I could ever
hope to understand,
eyes that devour, that turn to stone
I lament and growl as you feast upon their skin,
these men— serenading you in ancient tongues
won’t you quiet the storm that’s been brewing,
I know it’s egoistical of me to even consider asking you,
but please,
my heart simply doesn’t do temporary.

I hear your pleas, poetess and will burn it down,
all of it,
and twirl to and fro from the wreckage,
foolish are you to hope
there’s any chance of sorting through the ashes,
I decline,
salvage what you can,
a menagerie of violets and affairs drenched in rain.

The ache of sonnets through rosy-brown fingertips,
lightening cuts down,
be them branch,
be them intention as the hunger continues to gnaw;
medusa, I will slay
never to stumble, never again to persuade;
with the rustle of Orion above living waters, I seek you
in battle
time and time again.

 

 

 

 

Photo credits: Jeremy Mann painting, Pinterest

Ingrid is our charming guest as she hosts this evening
at dVerse, inviting us to write a poem in the voice of
a fictional character. Come join us! 💝

Posted for Poetics: “Exploring the Narrative Voice,” @ dVerse Poets Pub

38 Replies to “Untitled (treading along the grasses of reverie)”

  1. This is just exquisite, Sanaa! Medusa-as-Poet meets Perseus-as-Lover. Magical! And what a phrase ‘lemon chiffon state of unrest!’

    1. Thank you so much, Ingrid 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️

      (and thank you for the glorious prompt) 🌹

  2. I knew it… passion so dark… and Medusa knows about passionate death.. but maybe it was just her nature.

  3. You had me at “vanta black bewilderment as berries within silverness of meadows burst with indignation.” This is a fascinating classic character, and the form feels classical. It’s a rocking of the prompt for sure.

  4. Dear Sanaa,
    What a cocktail of imagery, passion and myth! You make us drunk with the smooth flow of your words! ❤️
    ~🕊Dora

  5. What passion and venegence you have, specially with: I, medusa crowned with twining serpents, do claim
    the atrocities
    committed against me

    I so admire the details (berries within silverness of meadows) and nuances of your verses (The ache of sonnets through rosy-brown fingertips).

  6. Mesmerizing, Sanaa! I love this part:
    “salvage what you can,
    a menagerie of violets and affairs drenched in rain.”

    A formidable presence that will not be ignored!

  7. Your descriptions amaze me as ever. I loved these lines :-
    till this day it remains an anomaly,
    that spiders unseen weave tales of her plight,
    Amazing creativity, Sanaa. 🙂

  8. Poets will return to Medusa again and again, but you have inhabited her so beautifully in this poem, Sanaa! The opening line is the sharpest hook that wouldn’t let me go. I love that it starts with Perseus’ view of her, the ‘vanta black bewilderment’ and the spiders weaving tales of her plight – and then the myth becomes real as the poem slips back and forth into Medusa’s persona, ‘a little soft and a lot rough’, with ‘eyes that devour, that turn to stone’. What a beautiful phrase: ‘a menagerie of violets and affairs drenched in rain’.

  9. Sanaa! Whoa! This seductive write is glorious.

    “Her kiss tastes like every dark thought I’d ever had,”
    “hours caught in the clutches of eternity
    gone rogue,”
    and especially…

    “I hear your pleas, poetess and will burn it down,
    all of it,
    and twirl to and fro from the wreckage,”

    My dear you have imbued this with a dark passion that is exquisite as it singes and I do love it!

    1. Oh gosh! That is such high praise! Thank you so much, Raivenne 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️

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