Scarlet whale starts swimming on the couch pillow On landscape painting, wind comes to shake the willow In the corner rises on his paws and stretches the porcelain dog All the house comes to life and buzzes at six o’clock The girl in purple always enters and finds her chair Crosses cozily her legs, and lets down black hair, And for hours on end, she says nothing at all Only smiles about something as the evening falls Down the corridor, mirrors glisten and fade I open the garage door, find a rake and a spade It’s going to take all night and day and another night To do things right I am digging two graves, for you and for me Wiping constantly my brow, oh it’s hard to see, And the girl in the purple throws me one look Through the window, and picks up herself a book Leave the vengeance to me thus says the Lord But the house wants to hear nothing of the sort Walls whistle and cheer, chimney dances in the dark And my porcelain dog runs circles and barks While I’m digging two graves, for both of us, While green angel of joy starts singing in grass While I load my non-existing Glock Because it’s six o’clock The girl in purple puts back the book on the shelf Tiredly steps out, I am all by myself Standing over two graves with the bleeding hands Only nothing ends See how the scarlet whale starts to swim off pillow Hear how branches whisper on the painted willow, Listen to the key turning in the lock Because it’s six o’clock Again, it’s six o’clock
(is purple a mourning color? I kinda have this evening visitor in a purple dress since I was a teen. I wrote the whole poem about her back then, but of course it's lost somewhere.
Interesting that it all had details of a house that I didn't and couldn't have had back then)
But yes, maybe not a joyful one. depends on a shade though
And-yes.
Thank you so much for the restack, dear Patris -I can't comment under the Note, what's with these people? i wrote to the big boss btw, no answer of course.
It is a brilliant ballad, dark and gloomy. I am in full admiration for your talent. But why does everything has to be so tragic?! The decoration of the scene with its scarlet Wales swimming on the pillow, a living painting, the porcelain dog stretching - all this still nature is contrasting with the alive but frozen girl in purple, tragic or at least, troubled color of poetry. And the main heroine with the bleeding hands is tired, standing in front of two graves. The ending is philosophical - "nothing ends." Circling of the beginning and end is an excellent method. Love it.
I'm very glad that you don't feel it tragic, but the reader does, at least I do, as your reader. When your heroine is preparing two graves for her lover (?) and herself and wants to kill both, how do you call this genre- tragedy, comedy? Anyway, it is very interesting action.
Early morning slyphs rise in a scene. Widows branches scrape colored reminders rummage through their hair to find a glimpse of what could have been or could be the next dream thought to happen. Mystery veils. We may never know and better than an empty grave waiting to be filled.
Taking me longer to find time to read. Ponder the words that express and suppress the emotions of solitude.
I couldn’t look away, Chen, from the first line to the last word, wondering at the purple mourning dress and who waits for those graves..
thank you, dear Patris 💕
(is purple a mourning color? I kinda have this evening visitor in a purple dress since I was a teen. I wrote the whole poem about her back then, but of course it's lost somewhere.
Interesting that it all had details of a house that I didn't and couldn't have had back then)
Yes, my understanding is that (oddly?) it represents royalty and also grief.
I’ve dreamt of living other lives since I was a child, we have that in common. It sparks recognition sometimes when I’m at museums.
Oh, to me it's a color of mystery
But yes, maybe not a joyful one. depends on a shade though
And-yes.
Thank you so much for the restack, dear Patris -I can't comment under the Note, what's with these people? i wrote to the big boss btw, no answer of course.
Thank you 🌹
Yes, purple is also a color of mystery and the occult.
💜
Not sure what this is but kinda like it
oh thank you Richard 💫
я человек непритязательный -"что вижу, о том пою" ))
oh thank you so much for sharing this, dear Fotini 🪄❤️
I'm completely lost on this platform. Granted it's the easiest part of being lost at all, yet still.
ah, and "hearts" disappear. for weeks already. "is anybody out there?"
Your poems are like a deep, dense, dark yet not unfriendly forest, Chen. I love to lose myself in them.
Thank you so much, dear Portia 💕
Indeed, if I'd be ..some terrain, I'd be a forest. I guess.
and huge thank you for sharing this ✨✨✨
thank you so much for the restack, rena 🌹
thank you so much for sharing this, David 💫💫
It is a brilliant ballad, dark and gloomy. I am in full admiration for your talent. But why does everything has to be so tragic?! The decoration of the scene with its scarlet Wales swimming on the pillow, a living painting, the porcelain dog stretching - all this still nature is contrasting with the alive but frozen girl in purple, tragic or at least, troubled color of poetry. And the main heroine with the bleeding hands is tired, standing in front of two graves. The ending is philosophical - "nothing ends." Circling of the beginning and end is an excellent method. Love it.
Thank you so much! I'm really happy you love it ❤️
It doesn't have to be tragic- I actually was for once almost joyful l when I suddenly wrote it. I felt alive. Because I was writing.
Albeit still myself, so there's that.
❤️
I'm very glad that you don't feel it tragic, but the reader does, at least I do, as your reader. When your heroine is preparing two graves for her lover (?) and herself and wants to kill both, how do you call this genre- tragedy, comedy? Anyway, it is very interesting action.
Well it depends which inner state to compare to which inner state.
(edited for too much information))
Even noticing things around me-I took it as a good sign, какой-то корень дьяволовой ноги, честно.
Maybe the reader picks it up
Thank you, dear Larisa ❤️
My heart feels for the recurring damaged girl in your words, Chen. I hope she does better as days go by, and for possibilities to always stay near.
🩵
thank you, dear Mahdi
big thank you for the restack as well -can't comment under the Note again somehow 💫
Early morning slyphs rise in a scene. Widows branches scrape colored reminders rummage through their hair to find a glimpse of what could have been or could be the next dream thought to happen. Mystery veils. We may never know and better than an empty grave waiting to be filled.
Taking me longer to find time to read. Ponder the words that express and suppress the emotions of solitude.
💙💙💙
big thank you for the restack, Vanechka 💫💫
thank you so much for the restack, dear Paul
💙