[ Inspiration : Martha Graham - “a dancer dies twice — once when they stop dancing, and this first death is the more painful.” and Black swan song by BTS ]
I tried to do a concrete of a man with wings and his reflection below him ^_^ Background - Pinus densiflora - Japanese red pine which is my Korean birth flower. It means brave, courageous, 'fidelity' and 'fortitude'. It is inverted to symbolise the misfortune of the man below, who is also a father. _____________________
Black Swan ~
Misfortune tails the shadow of fortunate fate Which turned the Zephyr that lifted my wings up To become brutal storm that crushed, severed them I mourn the death I feared, wings of passion tied to a wheelchair
Wailing without an echo, screams of silence Feet sinking in moist moors mundane, still stuck Wings sewed up patchwork, weighing with fright Claws I grew to dig on destiny's path and crawl
Flawless footsteps frozen in life's winter season Yet I'm a brave lone pine in suffering snowfall Fidelity defines my work and fortitude refines my life And when I let go of my fear, flaws kneeled at my perfection
For art is my legacy, I - father of forsaken dreams Can birth resilience to revive whatever I lost I have no tether to my blood born by umbilical cord But my passion will run in his veins and my two wings will shield his arteries
•| I've lived my first death, literal death is no more to fear I'll strive to death but never quit trying with my head held high |•
My feathers will guard your fragile fragrance to not diffuse My wings will teach you to pin wreaths on the coffin of fear - an Ideal Father ( of art, nature and relations )
Taetae you know, people leave but places don't. They exist holding back all the memories, fragrances and emotions. Walking down the lane of memories, reminiscence stirs waves of wanderlust as you recollect the fragrance of cherry blossoms you inhaled in the streets of Yoshino, drinking sake` under the trees with your loved ones, holding their hands as petals shower from above. And all these pastel pink cotton clouds recite is how ephemeral life is. Close your eyes and you can feel the silky soft petals of sakura swirling in the zephyr and showering you in a scent so serene and suddenly you're not in your living room staring at the white wall but sitting under the tree, basking in the tangerine hues of evening sun, mind sailing along the tranquil ripples of the lapping lake aside, soul brimming in solace - serendipity of sakura season
Sipping on your cold coffee, you walk the lit up streets near the London bridge with a black backpack and a brown shaded camera. Among the crowds cuddling and cackling, immersing themselves in festivities, someone catches your eye, a person who feels like personification of light. Radiating sunshine rays and redolence of red rose. Their scent attracts as well as calms you, tempts you to lean towards the source of the aura, an anonymous Aurora. When they leave with the crowd at last, you're left with scintillating sensations, a serenading scenery, a seraphic story and a soulful song that your soul will rewind... again and again...
When you open your eyes, you'll wonder how these places are still alive in the sunshade corner of your mind. And you'll realize how much you miss a person you don't know, who feels like poetry to your soul.
When love kicks open the doors of your heart Know that, you're already a poet, worshipping art Bringing back places that hold memories, fragrances and emotions Penning proses and poesies to relive the euphoria of meeting someone special
People leave, but places don't, likewise Poets leave, but poetries don't They're alive breathing, blooming Zephyr swirl lexicons Blue metaphors bloom White light rhymes shine Pink clouds pause Words heal Hearts
Scents stored and felt sensibilities Sense fond and suppository fantasies Former makes scenery eternal Latter makes syllables immortal
An eventide of turbulence amidst tranquility pulled my heart to the dusty corner of forgotten cobwebs Seeking creaky stairs that led to the attic creeping with cumulus clouds of nostalgia
/ Slanted roofs sliding and slithering far cry of choking past Trunk chest holding souvenirs of woebegone yesteryears Ailing attic, wailing woes, musings of time immemorial /
Atmosphere stuffed with silent screams and violent tears, wallowing solace Aesthetic slicing veins of memoirs and bleeding forbidden love, weeping solitude
Folded fans with forlorn wind snoring on rusted wings, trailing specks of silence Broken furnitures conjuring ghostly touches of once breathing lives, yearning breathless rage Lamps robbed of light, ceilings where forsaken dreams hanged themselves, swaying stillborn time Symphonies slumbering on crashed black and white piano tiles, breeding cacophony Bedridden desires bedecked with crawling cravings, extending arms of horrendous hope Touchwood easels etched with scars by timely wedges, confetti of dust dancing on dread Bald paintbrushes, centuries cemented colors and crusted canvases Dreamcatchers wielding luggage of nine lives longing wanderlust reveries An attic brimming with cloudy grey smokes and frozen fog of melancholia
With determination alien to my dreadful heart, I unearth the antic excavations of my attic The treasure chest buried in layers of fears and nailed with lava tears Sealed with the stamps of rejection and glue of ignorance, forbidding trespassing curiosities Now lay revealed afront, begging seclusion as well as screaming dissection Diaries veiling void, pungent with rotten memories and verses poignant with forgotten lullabies Scribbles of scorching emotions that evaded listeners Cotton patch polaroids and band aids verses on fatal time-stabbed wounds Clotting metaphors in bleeding ink, beguiling lexicons and pirouetting pauses Corroded calligraphy, tear smudged and grief chained alphabets Crispy stinking dried flowers with copper shadows of collided lives
I feel lives that withered like once cherished blossoms, then fallen funereal flowerets I feel the touch of transience on befallen autumnal leaves, now dried dead dreams I feel nuances of shared breath and sinking bonds, buried in the ocean beds
I feel the afterlife in the cemetery of estranged lives, in caskets of crestfallen faces, assassinated facades and skeletal smiles that would bloom as dreadful dyphillias in haunting midnights
Night is still young as I leave them to escape the touch of time, saving the rush of rage It's easy to renovate rusty ruins in the cloak of ravishing fantasies by stiching new dreams and sewing lost hope But hard to revive the essence of seraphic souls rebirth the traits of tenebrousity and resurrect the rubies of renaissance
// Screaming skeletons of saudade sensibilities In auburn attic with turquoise treasures Pristine sepulchre of precious scenery //
Early spring smooched heart of shrubs evergreen Water vessels of seeds in plant's womb rose Celestial corymbs then blossomed serene At tail end of longing stems sweet buds chose
Flower head, panacea of solitude Cwtching souls in bloom, like delicate petals Unity essence, unrobe multitude Showy rings, dipped in vivid hues sepals
Emotions heartfelt waft efflorescence Express agony and apology Enumerate each style inflorescence Thanks, Grace, Purity, Romance, Royalty
If these blooms could tell tales, each breath in art They'd whisper, " You're the beat of my heart '
I was born, a cerulean celestial corymb among the valley of solitude when early spring smooched the silent shrubs, impregnating them with multitude flowerets fated to sing blue balladries, pen dulcet sonnets and annoint apologies and etch heartfelt eulogies. As I arose to the warm golden rays tickling my delicate petals, delightful euphoria showered the silent valley in bliss. Plethora of my petals bowed to the benevolence of spring enunciating my gratitude. Flutter-bys with frail wings aroused in my seeds, a forbidden love. Zephyr caressed my hues, blessing me with panacea of heartache.
Eventually eventide arrived and along with that his soft footsteps. An ethereal prince homing crystal galaxies in his orbs. Soft rays of sunset glistening the dripping pools in them and silver rivulets cascading down his cheeks, streams of grief. He chose me among millions of florets in our valley, chanting hymns of loveless hearts. He whispered to my heart, an apology to his frozen inamorata, their broken bond which I'm to bend with my spells.
Holding me close to his beating heart, I could listen to all his truths untold. He lost himself chasing the reflection of a kaleidoscope, a loosen kite in the endless empyrean. His heart ached for how his amor resembled me, her heart dying thirsty of his love, negligence fading nuances of life in her soul.
Unbeknownst to me, he had walked into a forsaken valley of death. A flowery casket awaiting him in the half-lit corner. The last of Moonbeams revealed her pale face, a breathless beauty. He laid me on her bosom, tears falling like over-pouring rain. With my last breath I mend the broken bond of love by bridging a broken heart with a deadbeat one.
/ You're the beat of his heart /
He cwtched my frail form Apologizing amor Frozen in casket My last breath as adorned wreath Life lost, not his love for her
Change rose thirsty of lost love Can forlorn love bloom ? Can love lose ?
btsloveCan forlorn love bloom?.... Your mind your thoughts Never fail to amaze me and your reader
This is mind blowing
snehhaaaaHey!! You are doing really well... Wanna take part in my upcoming anthology ..! There are two packages and many more perks too If interested than DM Instagram (@___poemera_) Whatsapp(7014230989)
Sweet Spring Beauty blossoms Cuddling shrubs and cwtching seeds Adorning uni-verse bloom words Scent cling
Pours down Dulcet drizzle Melancholic musings Cathartic tears of tragedy Pains drown
Wondrous wall of the high empyrean aplomb Opens up afront in awe inspiring holistic hues Benevolently bewitching and breaching bleakness Nullifying negligence and nourishing nuances vital Iris awakens to iridescent imagines to inspire Abyss of artistry, avid spirits with Vibgyor ventures Rustic runes engraved renaissance to resplendent r a i n b o w s