What the Heart Wears


Image found HERE

What the Heart Wears

Show me how the apparatus milk rusts the summer to purple,
the petals to wax and oozing, embryo sunsets
in the bellies of the ink-crying stars
when the frantic, lathering ache
with its languid, delirious drool elaborates drunk forests
and the bitter, mad girls of water sprout from eggs in honey gardens
to watch the pink gowns of clouds,
the sordid, luscious symphony
that squeezes the knifed clerihews juice
from goddesses that fiddle on the rocks worshiping shadows
of their pearly woven wombs and snare,
and make blood be the color of my hair;
I waltzed through thousands of licks of raw darkness
in my moon-meat dress,
I was hot beneath my breasts
and nothing you can say can convince me
there was ever a death more gorgeous
than loving someone who wouldn’t.

~ by Oloriel on June 10, 2014.

21 Responses to “What the Heart Wears”

  1. Ah, but where is the clerihew (in your poem), my friend?

  2. This is absolutely genius love those closing lines phenomenal

  3. “embryo sunsets
    in the bellies of the ink-crying stars”

    Thus writes the empress of poetry herself. I would visit you, Oloriel, if just for the artistry of your words.

    • A very large portion of this poem was nspired by a place in my dreams which I tried to sneak into. The sign in front of it said “The Secret Garden.” I wish I could make you see it 🙂

  4. it is a pleasure of mine to be in such a creative place like Yours

  5. The intricate weaving of the imagery and emotions is just amazing in your words. There is no beginning, no end… your poetry is a continuing continuum. 🙂

  6. So vibrant, I’d love to visit in your dreams.

    • Thank you, Melanie, although my dreams are not the most whimsical place you would want to find yourself at, trust me on that one 😛

  7. Perhaps I felt a little as if visiting Norman Lindsay’s Gardens in the Blue Mountains here. A world secluded in its own mysteries and tales.

  8. moon meat dress. palpable.
    has the tree fallen if we haven’t heard it?
    is it a dream if we can see it?

    • I think it is on us to make the choice, if we turn our hands into mad, ravaging paintbrushes.
      Thank you very much for reading!

  9. the verse creates so vivid images in my mind… strong !! as always…

  10. tbh, don’t get it…it is beautiful imagery but can’t correlate

Tell me something

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Poems by Mandy

Sad Poetry by Mandy Williams...

International Journal of Research (IJR)

IJR Journal is Multidisciplinary, high impact and indexed journal for research publication. IJR is a monthly journal for research publication.


mapping the nest

Amethyst Review

New Writing Engaging with the Sacred

Anatolios Magazine

[ love letters to the light ]

Countdown To Classic

A World of Warcraft: Classic Podcast & Community

Highs n' Lows

Inform. Explore. Inspire.

The Wedding of Ken and Sarah

Coming to you August 17th, 2019 via the Wonders of the Internet!

Robert Hilles

Poet and Novelist

Bruised Rose Blossoms

Poet. Starscraper. Song whisperer. Niño de las estrellas.

Pointless Overthinking

Understanding ourselves and the world we live in.



Writings of Aakriti Kuntal

Clandestine tales cling to these forlorn ankles.

A Reading Writer

I write because I read. I read because I write.

The Bullet <3 Winston Smith

Music to burn Rome to

Ink the Lavender Skies

A place for the poetic explosions from my mind.

%d bloggers like this: