Mirrored Red
Brady Bowen 1973 (Louisiana)
Rebirth isn’t a breeze-caress
but a ripping, bloody labor of self-love
that grinds the bones of your departed self
into dust easily mixed
with the blood of yesterday.
My golden muse departs for another
more worthy of the love-gift
as the mirror is held outward-facing always
reflecting only the shortcomings of safety
for those Greek ladies carry tragedies
Hither, thither and yon until
the mirror cuts her hands again.
The blood is mine; a vermillion song
crying out in the way of Abel
until again it is hither, thither and yon.
Why does my blood cry out
from this parched ground of ignonimy?
from whence comes sweet succor?
The dogs lick my life from the dirt
and no one notices I am no more.
About this poem
Private angelic love inspiration
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Written on March 02, 2022
Submitted by BradyB999 on March 10, 2022
Modified on April 11, 2023
- 42 sec read
- 15 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | XXXXX AXXXX XXXXX XXAXX |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 713 |
Words | 142 |
Stanzas | 4 |
Stanza Lengths | 5, 5, 5, 5 |
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"Mirrored Red" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/122293/mirrored-red>.
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