No Cut-Throat Rose
This love is no rose throat cut bleeding sap from severed stem and every thorn peeled away. This love brooks no sentiment but dark humour collusion a symbiosis of intelligent lust to aid in decomposition. This love is not written on the moon reeking of rhymed verse and objectification. This love stifles every word that tries to speak itself into being no need to justify the intimate pulse, the hungry lips. This love is neither truth nor falsity, no illusory song for fools to dance to. I give you this love as a stranger might hand a dying man a drink of water at his place of execution. A matter of instinct. Kerry O’Connor Kerry O’Connor is the Creative Manager of a communal blog, imaginary garden with real toads, a group project which provides a forum for on-line poets. Her poetry is to be found on the Skylover blogsite, and several pieces have appeared in the online publications: Nice Cage, Verse Wrights and Visual Verse. During working hours, Kerry is to be found in a South African high school, teaching English as a first and second language.
6 Comments
garth
12/21/2017 02:18:39 pm
I love this poem, thank you.
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Garth
12/22/2017 04:39:01 am
I also fell in love with your blog! Now I need to put my time in before applying to become a toad... :-)
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I'd say Miranda has learned a few things from Caliban. That love ain't no rock n roll show. That the heart is deeper than rhyme (yikes) and wider than what we see. And to get there we have to travel with poems like these--to those places where a stranger hands the accused a glass a water on the gallows. Heart, love, those are the forward looking faces of something darker and deeper. Keep looking.
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February 2025
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