I really loved this, read 2 times already:)
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People crush sunflowers
too large to fit
in a jean pocket.
-
It's no hidden subtext,
petals are just
oversimplified clippings from a plant.
-
Yellow ochre dye
that weighs as heavy as
things you say, but don't mean,
things you mean, but don't say.
-
It's no big deal, I'll assure you
every time at the
ritualistic crossing of the street
with the red fire hydrant.
-
But sometimes I think you expect
what you're not willing to give.
Sometimes I think you lie
when you say you've given anything.
-
Reaching into my skull with those
mantis-like fingers, implanting the seeds of doubt
that I can ever be right about where the road goes
without your say-so.
-
You grow vines connecting the wrong dots,
forcing me to think in fragments,
to preach in broken stems
disconnected from the roots
of practice.
Hey, Rosewood here! 🌹
It's been a few months since I've reviewed, so sorry if it's not the most helpful. Anyway, let's get started!
First of all, I just want to say that I love the main concepts you're pointing out. In my own interpretation, I can see how you've combined acts of human nature and paired them our own understanding of morality.
People crush sunflowers
too large to fit
in a jean pocket.
It's no big deal, I'll assure you
every time at the
ritualistic crossing of the street
with the red fire hydrant.
But sometimes I think you expect
what you're not willing to give.
Sometimes I think you lie
when you say you've given anything.
You address the fact that we, as a group, tend to destroy what we can't have.
I only have one small nit-picky thing I'd like to add. I thought the rhythm was a little weird on the last line, "...when you say you've given anything.".
Ah! Such an interesting poem Lim & lovely poignant imagery that weaves around the message too. Like! These lines? "Reaching into my skull with those// mantis-like fingers" <- perfection. <3
Hey, Liminality!
Here's a short review for you today!
People crush sunflowers
too large to fit
in a jean pocket.
It's no hidden subtext,
You grow vines connecting the wrong dots,
forcing me to think in fragments,
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