see the imprint of my lips
upon this chalice
lips that harbored the bread
drank the wine
and became a mouth
a mouth that spoke
confessing transgression
seeking absolution
abandoning discretion
it spoke in jagged screams like fallen trees
murdered in jungles by inhuman mortals
and now
you
creator of illusion
with unquiet lips
the judas lips of
those who betray
those who pull hearts from open chests
and nail them bleeding to a wall
with elegant lies and chameleon kisses
with elegant lies and chameleon kisses
you offer me your eucharist
your bread and wine
but
my wholesome spirit knows your evil mind
so your wine
before my lips can taste it
before my lips can taste it
spills upon the floor
trickles and creeps like ignoble blood
and you
stomp through its puddles
in derision
desecration
your crisp and eager footsteps splitting the air
like communion wafers
masticated by impenitent sinners
and i
who can only betray you
in my imagination
will offer you a eucharist
inside my weeping heart
but know
that there is no absolution
for creators of illusion
and your lips
stained with the wine of betrayal
will never leave their imprint upon this chalice
will never be a mouth
34 comments:
I never get tired of reading and re-reading your poetry. Each read is new to me.
Secretia
Wow, this was amazingly powerful. So many haunting images and I was right there with you.
much love
Hi Nevine, it's me She Poet. Sorry I took off without notice, life is crazy right now and I have very little time these days to be the faithful follower I like to be. Anyways, your poem is commanding and riveting. I was honestly creeped out by the photo (in a devilishly good way) but it drew me right into the piece. Very poignant.
"see the imprint of my lips
upon this chalice
lips that harbored the bread
drank the wine
and became a mouth
a mouth that spoke
confessing transgression
seeking absolution
abandoning discretion"
Captivating imagery from the beginning. It was all good. I will continue to stop by when time allows to read more of you. Take care.
SP
a mouth that spoke
confessing transgression
seeking absolution
abandoning discretion
God, I never tire of your writting, somehow your words draw me in and leave me wanting more...more...more...
one need no be religious to follow the truth herein...
Secretia - I'm happy you enjoy reading and you come back for more!
Stacey - Thank you much.
She Poet/Life - Thank you so much for stopping in. I'm relieved to know you're well and still around. Thank you for your comment and please don't feel stressed about not coming around often. There's no pressure at all, and you're always welcome...
Steven - I like that you're drawn in. That makes me smile.
Wolf - This is not at all a religious piece, either. I just borrowed some props from religion.
First time on your blog and I'm glad I stumbled across it. Your poem gave me goosebumps. Thanks for sharing.
that picture scares me.... and your piece...well, it flows so elegantly yet the saddness there, the knowing mind of the ill doers, very nice.
Fantastic!
Captivating and intriguing, Nevine.
"see the imprint of my lips
upon this chalice
lips that harbored the bread
drank the wine
and became a mouth
a mouth that spoke
confessing transgression
seeking absolution
abandoning discretion"
My favorite part as well... love it!
Haunting, Nevine.
Jai
unstoppable. your words, once i started reading.
Very strong and captivating..
Karen - Thank you for visiting and for leaving a very nice comment.
Kay - That image is kind of spooky, isn't it? I thought it went just perfectly with my poem.
Bard - Bows and curtsies, both. :-)
Dream Dancer - Thank you. :-)
Jai - I love "haunting"!
Shadow - I appreciate that.
Turquoise - I'm happy you enjoyed it.
absolutely totally breathtakingly beautiful - plus everything everyone else has already said, lady!!! and it's more than clear that you and stacey and i have shared the same life - as have most of your commenters actually! :)
lovely, just lovely!!!
You are sooo creative poet!
I read new ideas and see different images every
time i read your posts.
hugs hugs
lol... i was speaking of your props ;)
Hey Nevine...
Creator of Illusion is breathtaking, really powerful, incredible words. I like!
"It spoke in jagged screams like fallen trees.." I adore this, fantastical :)
Thanks for stopping by my page too, I appreciate your comments.
Best wishes
Laura x
PS The black & white pic is an Edward Gorey illustration, I'm a big fan of his!
Gypsywoman - We must be old souls, old pals, rediscovering one another. I do appreciate all your hurrahing, Gypsywoman; it makes me beam. :)
Betty - Always a surprise around the corner. Why not? Life is too exciting not to dabble a little in everything.
Wolf - Gotcha! I'm still trying to figure out some of the things that sometimes bounce out of your jaw, laughingwolf. I need to scratch under the surface, then! ;)
Laura - I'm glad you like it. And it's a pleasure for me to visit. Always!
Another male characters falls. His power doesn't reach far enough now. Far enough to wound, but not to enchant or fool. And yet, she is held by something that remains. But those chains are gripped in her own hands. They were never forged by him.
Being a fan of both impressionism and surrealism the first element that struck me was the image because of its connection with the latter arts movement. And then the poem/text/dream/delirium itself is exquisite to the point of indulgence.
My interpretation of it is that it is a text about indomitability (sp?) and the devises a person (man?) will go to overpower the other - your lips, for instance. But it is the last four line that clinch it for me:
'and your lips
stained with the wine of betrayal
will never leave their imprint upon this chalice
will never be a mouth'
It's the type of delivery that a lot of people (me included) can only dream of, because it comes at the end of a very intense text. Get it wrong and you will have followers knocking on your door at 2am demanding that you explain yourself as to why you let them down :-). But get it right, as you did with this one, and it will leave a wonderful aftertaste to remember the piece for.
Greetings from London.
Nevine I am always some place else when I read your poetry. I am not in this room; you bring me somewhere else.
Love Renee xoxo
Thankyou Nevine for you presence,
Here,...i'm intoxicated by the wine in your words,
its raw emotons,
its consistancy made from wind and fire in the soul....
and as it fills the palate of my being, i find myself in the landscapes where you stop to look at your own face.
Jason - I know, I have them dropping like flies, right? ;-) But really, our chains are always forged by us only, aren't they?
Cuban - It was intense to write, too. I don't know why I get so caught up in it sometimes... and then I feel so exhausted. But it's a pleasure to know you, at least, won't be banging down my door at ungodly hours since you're satisfied with that ending. What a lovely comment to begin my morning with! :-)
Renee - I'm glad you join me in that " some place else". Sometimes it's such a lonely place...
Craftsman - Intoxication by the wine in words is a very dangerous thing. I know because I suffer from that form of intoxication often. I appreciate your comment tremendously, and your visit as well. Don't be a stranger.
Nevine this was truly deep and thought provoking.
What popped up in my mind as I was reading this, was the religious ceremony of my youth, where every Sunday I was forced to drink the supposedly blood of Jesus and eat His flesh; a symbolic gesture to remember him, and with this remembrance I could wash away my sins, or what I was told my sin was, by being a cannibal and a vampire, so to speak. I was six years old when I first participated in this ceremony; these illusions of being civilize, I was told I was a Christian and would be saved. Yet when I participated in the rituals of my ancestors, which was just about the same, (symbolically eating flesh and drinking blood) I was told I was a devil and would be lost.
You can imagine my feeling of betrayal when I was told I had no soul because of who I am, and no matter how much blood or flesh I ate or drink, I would still be doomed to hell based on ancestors.
True poets speak of things with such eloquence; skilled with playing with words that leave imprints on minds. Some imprints are subliminal in nature, others I can see right away. It is always my first impression of something I read that catches my attention, as it relates to something within my memories that I have, personally, experienced. It is later, when the subliminal message kicks in, that everything is complete, and to be truthful, it’s long after I have read the poem that influenced such thoughts.
I don’t know how you happened upon me, that lead me back to you --- but I am thankful for the connection, as your “dreams” and/or “fiction”, somehow validates so much of what I think and live; whether it be my insanity, or some else dreams, still, if the poetry/prose/etc. is good, it makes me feel alive. I don’t know if you can relate to this, but it’s just my way of saying … thank you for giving me such burst of energy via your writing. It helps these old bones move a little bit better!
Amias - I believe that things happen because they're meant to happen, and all events are part of our learning process. But that's just my take on things. I know that you find yourself in much of what I write. I'm the kind of person who delves into the human psyche. And I've always known that the human experience is more than just what we go through ourselves; it's also what others go through and we experience through our observation, as long as we are not indifferent observers. I'm happy you get a boost from reading what I write, Amias. You don't know how much it means to me to hear that from you.
You use works beautifully!
This seems very sensuous, which I find surprising in some ways. The idea that we can be betrayed by those closest to us seems to haunt all of us if we think about it too much.
I'm ready to feast on your book of poetry!
Marooned84 - Thank you much, and thanks for stopping in for a visit.
Mme. DeFarge - I don't think it's surprising at all that you find this sensuous. And betrayal by those closest to us is possibly the most haunting thought of all.
Trish and Rob - I hope you don't have to wait too long! :)
POWERFUL... I think if you keep writing on this scale, there are going to be entire governments and utility corporations coming along to see if there is some way to harness all your green energy... you could light up whole cities...
Owen - And now you've made me laugh! You're very kind, and it's greatly appreciated. Thank you so much!
fascinating conflation of love and dogma. bravo!
Thank you, Gerry. That makes me feel good. And now I know who you are, and that you have a blog, and that I really like what you write. Glad you came here, and that I followed...
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