Forged in adversity's sword

 forged in flames of adversity's sword,
   whispering ink leaking upon blotted sins
obscure as an eclipse's darkly allure
  rhapsodic rubbish of an untimely rhyme,

golden shimmer threads woven intricately
     in a noose of slip knot's scarlet ribbons behest
bequests through portals of  complicity
    machinations of another time and place
laced within roots of strangling tendrils
  mutated pretty posies succumb to ancient stories
dancing round the fire of life's indignities
    drowning of impertinence in molten ash

streaming soot of directive flow's utterances

          cannot deny the existence of hell's vortex

as the gravitas and bombastic preponderance

      in this perpetual travesty unfurls

its utterances in my pretentious voice's hush

     hardly matching those in my preposterous head,

yet truth rings clear as a bell's death toll

verses etched as silken decoys unfolded in titanium's recoil

    hiding in the recesses of silent protocol's evasive gibberish

grousing under a tidal wave of crushed soul's imperfections

    breached indignity of  transgression's metaphors

rewarded by awkward stares of disbelief and disgust

 personification well versed in the clamoring of history's chapters

            dog eared and closed the tale in finality's avoidance,

forbore the stealthy decay in corruption of one's eyes

         hiding rather in the sorted shadows than turn the page,

                        face the nakedness of music's symbolic reality 

     damage done can't be erased from old dusty passages, 

      yet, I still leave a light on for courage of a divine moon's charm

                     to shine brilliantly through the dim cracks

Author's Note

captcha- sixscore

Reviews

[redzone]

Frieda, this has me tongue tied, it poetry to the nth degree and there is too much to say, so many thought to express and all would make make the poem less profound in its contemplations of what a life is all about... "turn the page", "on the road again"..

I wrote a poem called "Turn the Page" a few years ago and will post it as a sort of reply , or better yet a continuing conversation around this theme...

But let me just say that I love this poem Frieda, its why you are a very special woman and poet ... it touches my heart deeply..
Curt

[Frieda P]

Your sentiments have touched my heart Curt, looking forward to reading your poem. You always bring a smile my sweet friend.

[Jeremy Baker]

Awesome writing, such depth and form. I loved it!

[Matching Socks]

The last two lines hit their mark Frieda. Seems like life for many is just storm after storm, we can choose to go down or stand and see that bit of light that gives us courage to overcome.

[Frieda P]

Thanks so much Ana Sophia, yep some days it feels as such, we can never give up hope, just write poetry. :)

[Matching Socks]

You got it. :) flood the pages!

[s y e]

This is exactly on point. Wording and imagery couldn't be more strong and powerful. I've read this 4 times to myself and even called my Gran - we both adore it. She went into this massive spiel about how she understood perfectly where you were coming from. I love the tone of this one... Absolutely splendid...xoxo

[Frieda P]

Awh thanks Gran for me too, we'd get along fine it seems. Thanks so much sweet noodlebumble! xo

[anne]

its magical with a wow factor as always....

dog eared and closed the tale in finality's avoidance,
forbore the stealthy decay in corruption of one's eyes
hiding rather in the sorted shadows than turn the page,
face the nakedness of music's symbolic reality
damage done can't be erased from old dusty passages,
yet, I still leave a light on for courage of a divine moon's charm
to shine brilliantly through the cracks..........the best part and specially last two lines tugged at my heart.....when I read your poetry, its really an inspiration to be dedicated towards thing you love to do.....magic flows when your poetic soul pen down words.... :))

[anne]

its magical with a wow factor as always....

dog eared and closed the tale in finality's avoidance,
forbore the stealthy decay in corruption of one's eyes
hiding rather in the sorted shadows than turn the page,
face the nakedness of music's symbolic reality
damage done can't be erased from old dusty passages,
yet, I still leave a light on for courage of a divine moon's charm
to shine brilliantly through the cracks..........the best part and specially last two lines tugged at my heart.....when I read your poetry, its really an inspiration to be dedicated towards thing you love to do.....magic flows when your poetic soul pen down words.... :))

[Frieda P]

Thanks so much anne, jazz'd you enjoyed this one. :)

[Boranus]

has anyone ever told you, you sound like a spoiled brat? It sound like rubbish but not the least rhapsodic. but you are always eloquent, that I do admire. but how hot is your temptation, how deep is your fire? some of the things you come up with, make no literal or symbolic sense. it engages my intellect but it doesn't assuage my passion to feel, who you really are, and what you really want. I don't get that feeling when I read your poetry. It sounds pretty, but it don't pack a punch. You deliver a nicely wrapped box, empty. You should do away with the wrapping, and give my conscience, content. (do you see my word play?) keep writing Girl!

[kublakhan27]

You're new here, you got lots of attention for yourself - though virtually all negative - with a controversial poem right out of the gate, and you're taking on the site's most beloved poet, and probably its most beloved person, who has been around here for several years longer than you have...to call anyone a spoiled brat - or even imply that they 'sound' like one - when you've know them as little as you know her - is pretty low-brow...surely you knew that little ditty of yours was not going to be acclaimed by everyone...she didn't acclaim it, called you out on it, and you've been raiding her with pretentious comments ever since...no, she's not the spoiled brat here, I'm sorry...I'm just one person, and you can question one person, but if you look at Frieda's track record over a very long time on this site, you're actually questioning hundreds of people...your singular opinion doesn't stand a chance against the hundreds (yes, hundreds...check her numbers if you can be bothered) who are moved on a daily basis by her work...you get get two or three or sometimes four pieces on the popular AND top lists on the site every single day by being merely average or merely 'pretty' or 'not packing a punch'....she has more substance in her pinky than your most hollow diatribes carry...yes, they're diatribes, they're not reviews...you're simply ticking off as many wordings as you can come up with to bring her down..

You're hardly in a position to be telling her to 'keep writing girl'...that's pretty condescending...anyways, you're probably wondering who I am, you probably thinking I'm sounding pretty condescending...I can understand that, you don't know who I am after all, but I can honestly say one thing: I'm in a much more qualified position to make these observations...I'm not trying to be a spokesperson for the place, but there are a lot of cool people here, and we're very accepting...but jumping into the site with both feet, with your guns aimed directly for the one person that we all love and respect greatly? Well, you're not gonna get much help with maturing as a writer if THAT'S what you're here for, and you're definitely not gonna make any friends, though I've already written that possibility with you...anyways, keep writing...boy.

[Frieda P]

This is not Farcebook, it's a poetry site, if you can't review my poetry without a personal assault on my character and confine it to content alone, please move along. I welcome all and any critiques on my poetry, but find it 'almost' amusing yet insulting that you'd pass judgement on my temperament within your cliche remarks. I'm apparently not your cuppa tea, I don't expect to be for everyone here at the cafe, but I do expect a bit of decorum & respect , if you don't enjoy my words, find another poet and carry on . Only my friends and family have the honor to call me a brat, you are neither. Get over your bad condescending self.....


Thanks Steve but hardly necessary to bust a gasket over such rubbish my sweet friend, I hardly live to keep his conscience content. I was so looking forward to your review on this one since it's such a personal piece for me. One bad apple & all that jazz...

[jacob erin-cilberto]

like "rhapsodic rubbish"

sometimes poems just appear so beautiful, harmonius...flowing...

but the words are shallow throw aways when it comes down to it..

no heart---

not here though...the heart is apostrophied--contracted, but can not be erased.

[Frieda P]

Were you aware the word apostrophe comes from the the Latin word, 'to turn away'...yep, what to do, thanks for your kind words jacob.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

and then there is the other meaning...as emily dickinson so aptly made use of...

when speaking from the perspective of the dead person or an inanimate object...

such as the dead heart that eventually "turns away"--

you are so well-versed in all aspects of the poetic game, my friend...

we could never "turn away" from what your poem elicits.

[Frieda P]

Emily was a smart cookie, no wonder she was your all time favorite...thanks again dear poet.

[MomzillaNC]

Stunning line, "mutated pretty posies succumb to ancient stories!" It's almost like a poet's eulogy… but the poet is winking at them from the wings…

[Frieda P]

Thanks so much Momzilla, love your interpretation, great review.

[MomzillaNC]

You're very welcome.

[KAREN]

Your word choice is so awesome, your imagery is just as awesome. You tell so much in this poem about moving on and not looking back.

[Frieda P]

Thanks so much, glad you enjoyed.

[KAREN]

You're welcome!