Archives des articles tagués savage garden


Her heart on the brink of
exploding concrete
she wanted to fight through
the woman in her
the bramble on her
but she counted her colours
as blessings instead.

her knuckles as she ruffled
depleted bones
and their crushed leaves.

a lock catching her wild eye
her least favourite colour
her own hues.

her envy of bright gold
bullions in her pockets
to ground her in oolong leaves.

the heart of the problem
sowing too many beats
around the saddened bush.

her head blossoming
in all different directions
violet – was she dancing.

her sleep so tight and dear
a grip of delusions and falls
on top of her world.

And back to white
morning light that saw her temple
shining through her bark
who was she now

who was she not
risen from a day of painful strokes
on her inside skin
and left gazing at another reflection
of her own tortured being
on the sky’s infinite

*Contribution to dVerse Poets Pub – Artwork by SueAnn*

With a different year in mind goes Darren Hayes’s song, a year I wasn’t even born. But in 1999, I was, and let me dive back into this year, the one that followed the year the best music was released (according to me). Let me recall the musical times I had back then.

(This poem was prompted by dVerse Poets Pub – thanks to Shawna.)

Stained with bubble gum landscapes
tying friends together like dolphins on a chain
we carried on dancing like we had nothing else but
the same music over and under and in

side by side
hand on hand
studying hyperballad phonetics
under our newly coffee-stained breath

was our word full of promises
I could never blow balloons but I tried hard I swear
I sweat
at the thought of pink sticky matter exploding on me

and keeping me from understanding
from holding back the years

« What kind of monster would I be able to release? »
I rushed as music found a circular space
in our already hardened mind.