-as yet untitled-
outside the window,
an ocean of poppies,
red like denial.
she watched them day-in-day-out,
from sunset to the first shards of sunlight
which crept through their stems
and reflected the underside of their petals.
from this she saw veins, a tiny network of
lines like join-up-the-dots,
a motorway map
thin like emotion.
dadd went to war and
mummy left.
poor Bessie in her night-gown, begging
why won’t you love me mummy?
But she gave no answer, left an empty house behind.
now she’s there amongst soldiers
in a field of blood and flowers, dancing,
dancing like she had nothing left.
Charlotte Henson
Sun 3rd Jul 2011 13:24
hey, thanks for the feedback guys :)
Cadacus, you are right in thinking this is a first draft - it's one of those i have a fondness for and so will probably end up with something stupid like ten drafts.
no to red like denial? fair enough. what sort of thing would it be better substituted with? a different simile or get rid altogether?
and Andy, i doubt very much that there will be a further...the large proportion of my poetry is character-based, so often a character gets written about once then left, but i do treasure them all :) especially the character from Sugar, i love her a bit too much for my own poetry xD
and yes, you're right, fields of blood is a little cliché, which normally i try to avoid, but i really couldn't think of an alternative. i wanted the red, but a painful red and something physical to embody pain, and blood was pretty much the only thing that sprung to mind ^^;