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Thursday, 30 May 2013

My heart is hanged


I have seen the hardened rock of the sea water 
Fall like curtains, drown an eye with love begrudge 

Walked on a thin layer of the heart string 
It tore and I fell deep into breath of  heart's thorns 

My shadow carried chains locked on my ankle 
I smelt nose bleed like rose petals that fall 

My hands as liquid hold strong roots 
My skin just gave way to the winds 

Death welcomes a new day, clocks melt 
This is the planting seasons for corpses 

A casket is made from the heart 
In Royal Wootten Bassett for old soldier's walk 

They haunt the roads at night as red runs 
Memory with nostalgic wings hangs hearts 

My love is the child that haunts the old house 
Built on hills of  weakened crumbling mountain's heart 






8 comments:


  1. My shadow carried chains locked on my ankle .. what an amazing strong picture.. and that repetition of heart. Very strong images.

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  2. tight images kodjo...the skin giving way to the winds is my fav.. enjoyed your excursion into love and philosophy of life..

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  3. ouch on that thin layer of heart string tearing and you falling...the planting season for corpses as well...def sets the mood in your choice of language kodjo..

    how you been?

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  4. kodjo, I haven't read your writing in awhile now. I love this with all its pain and longing. You have some striking images here.

    Pamela

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  5. Killer imagery. Death welcomes a new day, clocks melt
    This is the planting seasons for corpses
    What a fantastic couplet.
    Excellent work here. -Mike

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  6. Such a movement of images from the nose bleed to the rose petal - really surprised me : )

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  7. ..a casket is made from the heart --- aww, i liked that.... smiles...

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  8. it is so hard to pick favorites on this one - such great images you created here. you definitely nailed the prompt

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