A Poem by Lady Lazarus.

weirdly I found this piece amongst scrap paper with no recollection of writing it ,but I had at some here it is...

Wretched form
sad to 
stitched muscle
ulysses who delved in 
the cooing calls me forth
a child.
of skin....
and salt

Lips won't incite
a reply
          so shy
a hunt for the shadows that crave
the side of the soul
I was ripped from
a child of skin...
and salt

     asks the question
         is malevolence devoid of obsession?
 lilt through worlds of the living
  in vain search
   a final purpose

a child of skin
and salt.

Thine ally 
The rue ...
the throe of mine bosom
 I grow 
           as a feather 
     to confide 
the  Convulsed abide
 a child 
        carried on the surface
the nymphs lap my
and carry me into their arms

a child of skin.
and salt....

© 2010 Lady Lazarus.

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Thoroughly enjoyed this interesting poem, it keeps me thinking of all meanings hidden or not within these verses, trully wonderful. I wonder what does the main character refers to when the words "child of skin... and salt" are spelled, but I will read this over to see if I get it better along with the whole poems meaning.
Definitively my favorite stanza:
asks the question
is malevolence devoid of obsession?
lilt through worlds of the living
in vain search
a final purpose

a child of skin
and salt."
The idea of a question asking, the usual lack of purpose and the question itself referring to malevolence are great.
Excellent poem.

Posted 9 Years Ago

Interesting preview image
and I love all of it and especially this part
' Lips won't incite/a reply/senses/meander/so shy/a hunt for the shadows that crave/the side of the soul/I was ripped from/a child of skin.../and salt'

Posted 10 Years Ago

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I absolutely love this ''a child of skin and salt'', and..(excuse my bad description) Shakespearean bit is fantastic and your layout,seems to incite confusion in the reader.
Well soddin done X

Posted 10 Years Ago

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3 Reviews
Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on May 15, 2010
Last Updated on May 15, 2010


Lady Lazarus.
Lady Lazarus.

glasgow, United Kingdom

'...And I picked on the whims of a thousand or more Still pursuing the path that's been buried for years All the dead wood from jungles and cities on fire Can't replace or relate, can't release or .. more..

ttt ttt

A Poem by Lady Lazarus.

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