the blood that leaks a thousand fish is mine ……..!

AND I wield the glinting weapon that falls

upon your upturned face.

Lit by scented moonlight we are one

and that is the price,

your innocence is molasses, and I the thick-tongued cow

that laps you up!

My consciousness performs,

a conflicted melody

a lighthearted ballet,

perhaps Coppelia’

in the face of choice and personal responsibility,

for… the blood….

the murderous thoughts…..

Within our own anthill

the ocre dust stirs,

the world we give permission for speaks,

simmer down….

reduce violent thoughts

however justified we think they may be…..

Suddenly and defiantly

we ring, we spill

and IN floods the light

revealing polished palms.


24 thoughts on “Innocence”

  1. so she’s the doll Coppelia , innocent until filled, but the world she gives permission to is filled with hunger and want and fire. But by light of day they are again controlled, polished, restrained? So hard to tell if the picture I see is the story you tell….

    Fine poem, lovely picture, pure but sensual. thanks for sharing


      1. just don’t know what to say about that…:-) but it feels good to know you think so..sometimes it is like there is a cheeky challenging poet inside me that writes stuff and then leaves me trying to work out what its all about. I love the process and I can usually piece together the philosophy behind the words ..ahhhh its a whirly world this winsome windup of words


  2. there can be something said about innocence, but more importantly it’s what being said about experience. life is about the innocence of all we experience through each day. we stumble through our innocence and the experience is the measurement of how we handled it. love the sensuals here:)


  3. It’s the letting go that’s cheeky and, essentialy, brave, because it ‘s the letting go that … reveals. (Within your own ant hill, of course – which gives you the artistic control every poem needs).
    Um, I think…


    1. you are so on the money there! the best work is done when there is a release… or on the exhale, i like to think… its like martial arts…if I hold all the energy in my face in a kind of strain my kick won’t be sure but if I let it travel my body then there is far more power…same with words…or art…if we hold onto them its a kind of non-sharing attitude…a bit ‘lack attitude’ and then its not as pleasurable for the writer or the reader…. ! yeah


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