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Saturday, May 10, 2025

Her Shipwrecked Home

Her Shipwrecked Home
© Surazeus
2025 05 10

Eating at round kitchen table of hope 
with birds transforming from her wingless eyes, 
she dreams her house is floating on the sea 
with skirt of her obsessions as broad sail 
that captures wind of sorrow blowing wild 
so she can find the land where flowers sing. 

With hands that know dark passion of the soil 
from which ghosts of her ancestors spring tall, 
she eats the holy sandwich of regret 
in fraught communion with the solemn door 
through which no devil knows to tread again 
to wreck ship of her sorrows on the sea. 

Despite sharp eager pain of wordless love 
that bleeds from arrow Cupid fires each hour, 
she walks broad avenue of fluttering trees 
to follow signs revealing secret names 
that guide her journey to the public square 
where children play around the fountain pool. 

Immense attrition glowing silver wind, 
her heart sustains from harsh attack of faith, 
rebuilds her world view with conceptual code 
contrived from grape vines tight around her heart 
at sight of one young boy with tousled hair 
who sails his toy ship on the restless sea. 

Though she stands still as statue of brave Joan, 
burned at the stake for fighting tyranny, 
sharp nails of her despair spill from her purse, 
which devils use to pierce hands of free souls, 
and scatter clacking on communal stone 
with ringing melody of angry hope. 

Attempting to retrieve from wounded hearts 
sharp nails of anguish she denies are hers, 
she asks stone angel on the fountain pool 
if he will build new house from secret dreams 
to shelter her soft lacerated heart 
in ship that sails forever on wild seas. 

Broad wings of his incapable respect 
crack hard conventions of dutiful fate 
to shroud her fragile body with his love 
when stone angel of socialized acclaim 
bears her fear-weakened soul in gentle arms 
safe to her ship that floats on fertile waves. 

Still half awake before dawn bleeds desire, 
she stretches languidly in bed of trust, 
and gazes lovingly at rain-worn face 
of her stone angel whose intense respect 
impregnates her with mountain god of love, 
then cooks him breakfast in her shipwrecked home. 


1 comment:

  1. Orpheus wakes at dawn at smell of eggs and sausage, so he sits at the kitchen table with Ophelia who blushes as he drinks orange juice.

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