Carbon Noise Poetry

Irridiscent Flowers

The garden does not
Linger as it used to
The aroma of blood
Among lilacs conspires
Against visitation.
My sanctuary is lost.
The last time I went in
I had to claw my way out.
A church was never
Intended as a home
And a prayer must never
Invalidate commitment.


I prowl the perimeter,
A gravekeeper of sorts
Wondering if those halls
Still echo with my sobs,
If those weathered stones
Still mark the passage of time.
Or if another God
Rattles my osseous harvests.
Sometimes beauty is a veneer
For the hopes we cherish
But do not realize.
My therapist suggested that I try writing poems to my abstract paintings.

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2 responses to “Veneer

  1. I wrote my comment out at the original space – but this is truly a beautiful, evocative and strong piece Yves 😀

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