A Cry for Purity

Angel

staked in the smoke

of Divorce

he beat my soul

the smiths will rebel

ring that tragic

bit of gold

the cursed gold

my least favorite metal.

 

Instead perhaps

a savior

will resurrect my heart

enhance that

lost loving mind of mine

into blissful ecstasy of reason

with the lucky Jupiter

electricity of love

in dashing, flashing platinum.

 

Rescue Me.

 

My birthstone

the Perfect Diamond

is broken in teardrops

of despair.

 

 

Reviews

[Eagle Cruagh]

I made the mistake of reading other reviews !
Whew ! To cast flaming petals into eirie, wanton
showers to drift away from moribund display.
Have faith, you will have reviews--- I need to stop
and refresh.
Ah ! A plea for more understanding. A denunciation
of the people who seek only satisfaction of self.
This is the most talented and professional story I have
seen painted in the language of poetry.
Don`t despair, with your great faith and intellect, your
Jupiter is en route this very minute.
Favorite---100 %
---- Eagle Cruagh

[ice]

I saw this in the "erase' contest..
excellent poetry, form and story..
Hope you win.

[Brokensoul]

Such lovely metaphors and expressions. wonderful !

[deeps]

I really enjoyed this. I love the last stanza the best.
This is wonderful.

[samdraMAYHEM]

I'm gonna have to rate it a 3.
(I'm rating all the poems in my contest between 1-10)
I just really didn't like it.
I get what you're portraying, but it could be a little better written.

[eileen.]

The last four lines ended it perfectly:

My birthstone

the Perfect Diamond

is broken in teardrops

of despair.

[Frances O'Neill]

Nicely written!

[Justin Tobey]

Excellent job! I particularly like the last stanza. I completely agree with Eagle; this is one of the best poems I've read on the Cafe. Everything flowed very nicely, and it was from the heart. :D

[This Page Does Not Exis..]

So delicate, and heart-felt....such a mixture of passion and femininity...The first stanza is so witty and capturing. I loved this, Nancy

[Antonio Valentino]

Dear Siddartha,

The purity of an angel, not unlike that of a brilliant diamond, cannot be made, she can only be found.
I can't see you not always surrounded by the light that is you.

Loved your poem!
Antonio