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Carnation in bed
by Sam Roberts
The night before I woke, I lay a carnation on my fur
Pink, aromas fusing and flying up my nostrils
Drumming the stem absently along the white of my radiator
Cooking the petals to taste.
Relaxed just laying near, he was reincarnated
Lifting a paintbrush onto my ruptured fur
Leaving me to sleep in my electric blanket
Switching off my lights and left numb.
And the morning my eyes twitched, the stems had detached
left isolated at my feet and defeated, gone black.
Black drumming, absently along the white
Awake with my saliva, resentful and spitting tarmac
12/26/2003 Posted on 12/26/2003
Copyright © 2025 Sam Roberts
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Maureen Glaude on 12/26/03 at 04:35 PM fascinating combination of images. I love carnations, they live so long. and are so lovely. This is a complicated poem, perhaps with a lot of personal references, I don't know, but I liked it a lot and found the contrasts strong. |
| Posted by Kristine Briese on 12/28/03 at 09:39 PM Lovely, vibrant images. Excellent job. |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 03/02/04 at 03:29 AM A bad dream come nicely to fruition in the act of poetry! |
| Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 11/27/06 at 09:36 PM Enjoyed this very much. Thanks for the read. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 12/06/12 at 03:15 PM You have an interesting way of progressing as time twists around the ideas any way it wishes. Pretty fascinating stuff. Thanks. |
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