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Aria Siren


Dancing With An Elephant-Sonnet II


Shuffling through old letters and devotions
Buried muse screams for me to let her float
Painted on skin deliquesced in your ocean
Elephant in the room sits on my throat

Screaming sparrows ring such savage alarms
But no wind can sing leaves back into place
Strike the pallid and pray to cause no harm
Weeping pleas for you to invade my space

You danced marionette fingers on my mouth
And you caged dead butterflies in my chest
And I can't forget you when I am roused
And I can't forget you when I'm in rest

All that is left are embers from the fire
All that remains: epitaph on desire

Submitted: Saturday, March 02, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, August 28, 2013

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  • Rookie Dipy Hermonite (9/25/2013 3:45:00 AM)

    Fabulous Aria. Loved it. Have given the poem the 'Excellent' it deserves.
    Could you read and rate my poem. Link is given below

    http: //www.poemhunter.com/contest-vote/your-world-my-lord/
    Regards
    Dipy (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Alla Simone (3/2/2013 5:31:00 PM)

    I love it! Something about a sonnet that expresses things so well. Such eloquent language, and vivid imagery adds to the intensity of the emotions expressed. Some highlights for me were: 'Deliquesced in your
    ocean...Screaming sparrows...savage alarms...Weeping pleas...marrionette fingers...dead butterflies.'

    My favorite part is definitely:
    Screaming sparrows ring such savage alarms
    But no wind can sing leaves back into place
    It illustrates the frustration & pain one might experience well, but also shows srength in that you are not in denial. You can't start the next chapter in your life, if you keep rereading the last one.

    Ending is superb: 'epitaph on desire.' Its perfect. Short, curt- to the point. No fluff is necessary for us to know the hollow feeling of simply having an inscription to read. Fantasic, terrific, awesome job! (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 36 Points Sandy Player (3/2/2013 1:14:00 PM)

    The penultimate line screams to me something from another poem out of the ash/I rise with my red hair/And I eat men like air. Poetry purists would be throwing their volumes at me for that but there is something in it(forgetting the rest of the poem it comes from) that links so beautifully well with your poem.

    Your poem is absolutly ringing with intense shocks to the senses! A very nice poem for sure. (Report) Reply

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