Giulia 2nd draft of that thing about red roses

23 Feb

I went through some minor changes here and there, still hasn’t edited it while keeping in mind all the great feedback received on Friday, may do it later today or tomorrow! And I’m experiencing a true dilemma, as giving a title to the poem would detract from the gargantuan tautological power of the first line (meaning, I’m still thinking about it).


This poem is called…

you know what, no. Actually, I can’t do this.

I feel so uncomfortable around poetry

It’s not just the perks of performance

But writing it

Can you spare me five minutes to go through

What one would call my creative process?

It won’t take long.


I sit. The paper’s white, it’s staring

Expectant, and it’s hard, but I breathe

In time with the songs inhabiting my inside

They echo. They leave me deaf, so

Overwhelmed I can’t tell my left hand from

the right, for such big things.

Planets and stars are all in place.

Engulfed by the greatness of art and life, I finally write…


‘Roses are red.’

Jesus, what’s wrong with me?

I find it cool, though.

Simple, concise, right to the point and still

Working on such universal imagery

Flowers of lovers, of friends, passionate

And mean, beautiful as it is

But covered in thorns. And red,

Glamorous shade of redundancy, significant

The dripping, splattering fluids of sentiment.

Why would you define a line by its abusage

When it can speak such a worldly tongue?

Whatever. Onto the next.

‘Violets are’ well, technically ‘purple’

Though violet would be more precise

This colour takes its names from flowers after all

Lavender, lilac, mauve

‘Violets are violet’, as thou shalt not bear false

Witness against thy plants …?

And then again, wouldn’t such statement

Make us reconsider our original view

On roses’ colour itself

(When someone can call purple ‘reddish blue’)

Blossoms of grace, they sprout in all hues of pink

Tempt you with their creamy voices, saffron

And ivory keys on nature’s piano

Wouldn’t that make more sense to me

To change it to

‘Roses are sometimes red, but tend to come in a scope of dawn-tinted varieties

As their denomination proclaims,

While violets are literally violet’

Do you see my problem now?


My brain is a box of jammed gears

Clogged with streams of greasy hormones shading my feelings

How could it translate to flows of words

When a single meaning has me crooked?

What does it take to transform me into a poet?


One Response to “Giulia 2nd draft of that thing about red roses”

  1. sirrvictor February 24, 2014 at 11:41 am #

    wow.. nice poem.. check out my blog for related posts

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