Rose Foretells
A poem
Anger? — Boiling!
Door? — Slammed shut!
Tears? — Pouring down the tearless waterfall duct,
Invisibly cascading over your frozen façade.
Preeminent thought? — “Oh well, same old crap!”
There goes our fabulous island life,
Rented, in a two-by-three corner flat.
Funny, how a blink of an eye,
Wilts to dust
Decades of life
Without a courtesy of a civilized — goodbye.
What caused the hurt is suddenly gone
Why then is the pain choosing to not be gone?
Morning shapes the day — No surprise there
Water shapes the shore— No surprise there
You lie in the bed you make — No surprise there
Where your heart rests so do your fear and soul.
Your weakness spells your sin — No surprise there
Your pocket’s depth does not foretell your kindness, nor your gesture
But a rose, the rose foretells —
The thorn.
The force of the blow is foretold
By the momentum of the fist and the size of a festering stone
And life?
Life foretells death.
Rose! Oh, Rose! — The world is ours!
The night is spinning
We’ll forever stay young, happily giddy
And look —
The fear and level-headedness are leaving.
Love, you’re stupid
Love, you’re blind
Powerless over me, but if so, then why?
Why the breeze catches my hair
Ten floors down into the well
Of the consequential destiny?
Life foretells death — No surprise there
Deceit foretells hell — No surprise there
The force of the blow is foretold
By the momentum of the fist and the size of the festering stone —
No surprise there.
The above was inspired by, and is a super loose interpretation/spin on a poem written in Polish, by Jacek Cygan, entitled “Jaka róża, taki cierń,” and performed as a song by Edyta Geppert. You can see one of her musical interpretations of this poem here.
