Tuesday, 19 August 2014

the golden roses technique

i cannot believe
where the mind
will go

sometimes
to hell and back

resurfacing my heaven
in black

under the hot and
featherless
tar

writhing
kicking
screaming
ticking

my heart with her
leavening tale
to tell

describes the only
way out...

i will blow golden roses
up in my head
to fissure and crack
the thoughts
jet black

haunting me monday
to sunday
and back

once i found a way
to turn the black gray
then dilute all to colors
with tears

took me forty years
and one

and now the mind lies
sometimes
vacant and
quiet

the desperate work
has been
done


© Katya Mills