Flowers And Whores
By Malcholm Dark
Upon the rolling hills of green
see the California poppies sing.
This flaming orange flower scene
impels the land of fire to ring.
A white, misted fog since rolled
over
now sunlight sparkles the dew.
Sporadic sights
of white owl's clover
dots of lupine's velvet blue.
Come
feel the beauty and the passion
tears will surely fill the
eyes.
And see the splendor of this caption
but, take
care from hidden lies.
For here amid the stocks of glory
nestled in nature's flower bed.
A body soaked in blood, so gory
a single bullet through the head!
--Hear the screaming of
the innocent, here then nevermore.
Are we to be cut from our society,
are we cancerous sores?
--Hear the pleading cries of innocence,
hear them I implore!
Are we then flowers of our society, or
are we its' whores?
Arizona's rugged mountainscapes stand
daily
to shade the queen of the night.
As the mighty saguaros
and cat's claw gaily
bask within this desert's light.
The paloverde's smooth green skin
and the cholla's spiky
quills.
Shield the breath of a fiery wind
as it curls
'round the hills.
Hear the call of the cactus wren
or the
coo of a mourning dove.
Smell the death beneath you when
the buzzards circle high above.
Clear away the rocks and cast
an eye
past the prince's plume.
A death by murder this
child of five
within the silent gloom.
--Hear the screaming
of the innocent, here then nevermore.
Are we to be cut from
our society, are we cancerous sores?
--Hear the pleading cries
of innocence, hear them I implore!
Are we then flowers of
our society, or are we its' whores?
When clumps of
silver croton give way
to camphor daisies and railroad vine.
The morning glories call in a new day
white blossoms reflect
a Texas shine.
The silky sand from beaches fly
across
this gulf of turquoise blue.
Let dunes roll on and never die
and great blue herons stand up true.
See the white fragile
gulls against the sky
as if, suspended on a string so steep.
Circle miles of beach with a watchful eye
and listen
to evening primrose sleep.
But there upon pristine white and
blood soaked red
laid out beside that sea from God.
A woman
raped then bludgeoned and left for dead
shall see no more
the golden rod.
--Hear the screaming of the innocent, here then
nevermore.
Are we to be cut from our society, are we cancerous
sores?
--Hear the pleading cries of innocence, hear them I implore!
Are we then flowers of our society, or are we its' whores?
Alabama's sweet tobacco posies show
the wisdom for
more passive ways.
But killers within our society know
the coming of more darkened days.
A withered tulip reserved
for those who slay us
remember thou shalt not kill.
For
redemption we strive, but our ways betray us
and the murders
happen still.
As children observe and mimic our actions
and life becomes this sordid game.
We stand apart, divided in
factions
pointing fingers at those we blame.
We society's
blossoms, must open wide
let every color blend.
For
if we do not the flowers will die
a most unpleasant end!
--Hear the screaming of the innocent, here then nevermore.
Are
we to be cut from our society, we the cancerous sores?
--Hear
the pleading cries of innocence, hear them I implore!
Are we
then flowers of our society? No, we are its' whores!
"Roses are red, the color of blood
Open and shed the whores of flood.
The flowers are lives we once led
All shriveled up and laid over...
and most assuredly
dead!"
Awards
Comments on "Flowers And Whores"
-
A former member wrote:
wow...just wow :)...this really gets the mind working...its horrible to see these things in society, good point, what are the innocent to society?...the repetition almost makes it feel like its beating inside you...this really hits home.
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On Wednesday, August 18, 2010, Shadow_Kissed5180
(24) wrote:
i loved this; definitely should get a bigger award
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A former member wrote:
Wow! This is... Are those actual murder cases? In California, Alabama, Texas and Arizona? It sounds as if you were describing real events (I shudder at the thought...)
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On Friday, February 19, 2010, lupus tenebrae
(860) wrote:
This is one of the darkest pieces yet, I was right, you can't write a bad poem. Another brilliant stroke, and a fantastic read, thanks for sharing!
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A former member wrote:
My god in heaven. This is your best writing yet. Say hello to my favorites lol