*Image found HERE



The world is already over;
a hand of brown, sturdy branches
grates the lemon zest over the fields.
I do not want to be your sunflower,
something ever thirsty,
a chewable exterior
and a soft dark core.
Instead I will peel myself,
rid myself of everything but fingers
and hold your hand
and ask you
what was the first sunshine
worth remembering?
What were the first ruins that made you

~ by Oloriel on April 22, 2015.

41 Responses to “Confession”

  1. Oh. The road to confession begins with the shedding away of all the hides that we have encrusted over our skin. It’s the knowledge that we give and the insight that we gain, which makes confession a form of communication. Very well penned, Oloriel. 🙂

    • I am very excited to see your comment, friend, your presence was missed on the wordpress interwebs!
      I hope you had a fruitful time off and you will grace us with your poetry! 🙂

  2. such unique, elegant and powerful words!

  3. Well done, I’ve been away from your blog for far too long

  4. Selena — this may be one of your strongest pieces, only because if its accessibility. The language you use is still magnificent as ever, but this — this just plucked out my heart, like a sunflower itself, and started picking at the petals and tearing at the dark core of seeds. This is excellent, and I hope you don’t mind me sharing it.

    • Thank you very much for the comment. I believe all poems inspired by my ongoing love for my dearest husband tend to murder with simplicity. It is funny how everything assembled like that, because it was I who would, younger, yell at TV screens when watching corny movies and soap operas how Love, true one, should not be too complicated.
      I do not mind your sharing at all, in fact I feel excited and like my poem got noticed by a celebrity!
      But seriously, I am longing for more C&C spoken words with your incredible music and reading (do not ever share a room with me, I might belladona you and snatch and replace our vocal chords!), we MUST do more when your creative sparks are up! We still even have that artwork for Wings of Nails we never showed anyone 🙂
      I am blabbering, but yeah, thank you, THANK YOU, for reading this and sharing it!

  5. Reblogged this on Being the Memoirs of Helena Hann-Basquiat, Dilettante and commented:

    Oloriel is one of my favourite poets and a sometime collaborator, and everything she writes is magical. This poem struck me to the core. It’s short and perfect. Please take the time to go read it.

  6. Wistful and eloquent, Oloriel. Love!

    • Thank you very much, Bianca! ❤ I hope the wishes catch on good for us all, let it be Spring!

      • You deserve Spring, and I deserve Autumn. I’m pleased to tell you that the chill has finally arrived. Loving it 😊

      • Hey, i would not complain to get Autumn either! 😀 I am glad you are getting a break for the Summer heat!

  7. Found you through Helena, and I’m so happy I did. This is beautiful!

  8. Awesome, my friend!

  9. I love this, such simplicity, yet surprising in the images I get. The last line simply mad me gasp.

  10. Wonderful poem Oloriel. Were you inspired or influenced by Rilke?

    “Sonnets to Orpheus Book 2”
    by Rainer Maria Rilke
    (Translated by Edward Snow)


    You flowers, akin, finally, to the arranging hands
    (girls’ hands from times before and now),
    laid out on the garden table, often end to end,
    your strength ebbing, gently wounded,

    waiting for the water that might retrieve you
    from an encroaching death—, and now
    raised up again between the vivifying poles
    of feeling fingers, which minister

    more potently than you had dreamt, light ones,
    as you find yourselves suddenly in the vase,
    slowly cooling, and giving off warmth of girls

    like confessions, like sad fatiguing sins
    incurred in being plucked, and relating you
    again to those whose fate, like yours, is blooming.


    All that we’ve gained the machine threatens, as long
    as it dares to exist as Idea, not obedient tool.
    To inure us to the hand’s more masterful lingerings,
    it cuts for rigid buildings starker stone.

    Nowhere does it idle, it gives us no chance to flee
    and leave it self-lubricating in silent factories.
    It is life, —believes it does everything best,
    making, arranging, destroying, all the same.

    But for us existence still can enchant; in a hundred
    places it’s still Origin. A play of pure forces,
    which no one touches without kneeling in awe.

    Words still softly give way before the unsayable …
    And music, forever new, out of the most tremulous stones
    builds in unusable space her house fit for gods.


    Where, in what ever-blissfully watered gardens, on what
    branches, out of what tenderly un-petaled flower cups,
    do the exotic fruits of consolation ripen? These exquisite
    fruits, which sometimes lie there in the trampled

    meadow of your losses. Each time you come upon one,
    you marvel at the size of the fruit, at its perfect fullness,
    at the tenderness of its skin, at how it has escaped
    the wantonness of the bird and the jealousy

    of the worm below. Are there trees, then, visited by angels,
    and so strangely tended by slow occult gardeners
    that they bear for us without being ours?

    Have we never been able, we shadows and phantoms,
    as we go on prematurely ripening and then withering again,
    to disturb the equanimity of these serene summers?


    Silent friend of the many distances,
    feel how your every breath enlarges space.
    Amid the rafters of dark belfries
    let yourself peal. Whatever feeds on you

    is taking strength from such fare.
    Know every path through transformation.
    What one memory holds your deepest grief?
    If you find drinking bitter, become wine.

    Now in this night of fire and excess
    be magic power at your senses’ crossroads,
    the meaning of their strange encounter.

    And if the earthly should forget you,
    say to the silent loam: I flow.
    To the rushing water speak: I am.

    • In a way yes, I am still veru under the influence from rereading his poetry lately, but I do not think I do it justice; when mingled with everyday feelings, I think my work fails to reach both the lenght and the quality.

      • Well, I’ll be honest with you – There are very few bloggers I keep up with on WordPress, as most people who think they are poets, wouldn’t know good poetry if it bit them in the ass. You are an exceptional writer and poet, and I enjoy your poetry on the same level as the dead poets I enjoy, like Rilke.

        I wish I knew of more excellent living poets like you. It’s depressing to me, to see people post 3rd grade level poems and get in excess of 75 likes on them. It seems the blogosphere is full of dilettantes, both as regards writers, readers and those people who will only read or like your work if you read or like their work. You don’t visit my blog all that often, and I don’t personally mind, as I don’t read and comment on posts to get people to repay “the favor”.

        As I was reading your poem, I was sure I detected the influence of Rilke, which made it all the more enjoyable, as he is my favorite deceased male poet. Don’t sell yourself short, I am a true fan of your work Oloriel. Yeah, it wasn’t very long, but some of your poems are longer, and this one was about the length of a sonnet. If you hadn’t made the last word have a line of it’s own, it would have been exactly sonnet length, so I wouldn’t worry about length, if you are measuring your work against Rilke’s sonnets.

        Hey, do you happen to know of some more poets like yourself on WordPress you could point me to? If you do and you will, and you would rather recommend some to me outside of a comment so your readers won’t take offense if you neglect to recommend any of them, feel free to email some links privately if you can find the time.

        By the way, did you know that Rilke wrote hundreds of poems in French, not just his native German tongue? I have yet to do thorough research, but I am curious as to if they have been translated with the bulk of his common poetry books, or if I will need to look into tracking down his French translations. I think I read somewhere that he wrote in excess of 400 poems in the language.

        In any case, if you haven’t read his letters, I recommend tracking down a copy of Rilke and Andreas-Salomé: A Love Story in Letters translated by Edward Snow (my favorite Rilke translator), as Rilke frequently wrote to her in poem-form poetry that hasn’t been widely collected in books of his poetry.

        Lou Andreas-Salomé was the one who convinced Rilke to change his first name from René to Rainer, and was his “secret” muse in much of his writing. Understanding his relationship with her through his letters to her, opens the door of understanding and appreciation of Rilke’s work a little wider, if you have the curiosity and time.

        I must thank you for writing this poem, by the way. Because it seemed familiar to me, I went back and read all of Rilke’s Sonnets To Orpheus again in one sitting yesterday, and as I reread part 17 of book 2 again (which I shared with you above), I realized that my “21 Shades Of Blue” poem inspired by my recurring Rilkean dream is even more connected to Rilke’s Sonnets To Orpheus than I had yet realized, as that sonnet is about the story of Gilgamesh and the Willow Tree, where the Goddess Inanna tended to a Willow Tree in her garden, in which a snake grew in it’s roots, a bird roosted in it’s branches, and Lilith made a home in the trunk. I recently wrote about that ancient story sounding similar to my “21 Shades Of Blue” poem, a couple blog posts back, but I hadn’t realized that Rilke had actually written about it as well. I imagine he liked that ancient Sumerian story, because he too planted a willow tree in a garden 2 years after completing the sonnets. It was a treat to see the deeper connections!

      • The reason I need special time for Rilke is because I crave the original, and I always wanted to learn German, but my school was only offering French. I guess his work inspires me extra because of reading it in German, it feels as though it leaves imprints in my mind which can only be deciphered later. I think this is where the beauty or reading work such as his really lies, because it does not just show you something familiar, but something strange and itching as well.
        It is true I do not read your blog often and for this, honestly, I am sorry. But I cannot and will never be a liar; I believe your blog deserves not only my 100% attention, but also the willingness of my mind to even begin to grasp the threads you generously put in front of the reader. Your blog is not the blog I can and will read in 30 minutes which I have while my son sleeps, because that would be insulting to the quality of your writing, but I do and will read it, and this is a promise 🙂
        I will write to you about recommendations, I have just released a post where I show who some of my favourite poets of today are, and I have writen before about poets specifically on WordPress that I admire, but I will expand on the list.
        The connection to Rilke further stemmed and can clue readers in by my choice of the picture, but it troubles me at times that I do not know if those ‘clues’ are noticable.
        Lastly, I want to appologise for answering so late to you. I have started writing this comment yesterday evening, when my internet went off in the middle of it (though the WordPress comment gremlins thankfully saved a part of my response!).
        Do expect that recommendation email from me very soon!

  11. Ovo je predivno!

  12. Insert small smile [here] upon reading “soft dark core”. Love it. 🙂 And have you ever thought about using your images and marrying your poems to them and creating a book, of just “your” images and poems, or have you already done that? I’m used to people doing one or the other, but to have both gifts isn’t as common. Love this piece!

    • I did, actualy, not just photographs but everyday design too, digital, paintings and all that jazz, but I have been informed that would cost too much to print and none would buy it because it would be expencive for the same reasons. Not that I want to sell, but I want my work seen. I am thinking of attempting to send the ‘honeymoon proposal’ to some gallery queries and similar, but I am not holding my hopes up 🙂

      • Ahh, well, I think you have the talent to pull any of it off! A few years ago, my work wasn’t selling and I just got pissed off and jacked my prices up to a ridiculously vulgar amount. (More than $1000 per gallery wrap.) It actually attracted buyers. 2 months ago, I sold a print for almost $1,000, and so now- I don’t list any for sale under a thousand each. They’re large canvases/gallery wraps at 60 x 40, but still- it’s a pretty steep price (and $725 royalty per piece). I won’t budge either! I think, as artists, we have the right to increase our prices and stand our ground. If we do that, others will be willing to pay the price for that stand. I say all of that to say, “you’re worth it”. I’ve seen a lot of people do the Blurb (book) thing. Maybe you could do a P.O.D. thing and keep a link at your place, you know? Print out as many as are ordered. it’s hard work, any ole way you slice it. :0)

        By all means, petition the galleries! Your work is top notch. I could totally see in being exhibited. I hope you decide to do that. x

      • Wow, that is really admirable. I can totally see myself in that story, going berzerk and changing my prices like that! 🙂
        I think my work goes so slow because I am looking for places which are ethericaly perfect to show my work. Maybe I am spoiled and uneducated (which many curators, teaches, proffessors and the lot tend to often point out to me.) but I want something perfect. Exhibition should not just be plastering something on a white wall, it should be so much more. It is not that much about investing, and more about WHERE to invest. I am looking into a few places right now who were started solely from passion, they would be perfect for me.
        As for the book that makes a marriage out of all of my work, Id invest in that too, but I think I first need to fully embrace all the passions of it: the digital work and painting and photography – in the same ammount as I do with poetry.

      • I couldn’t agree more. I hope that no matter what you do- above all else (except for the very passion that goes into the art/work/writing itself) you have a keen and solid understanding of your worth. Never underestimate your value!

        Picasso, Warhol, Basquiat- all of my favourite artists taught me that. ;0) Sign your name to your work and make it mean something. I have no doubt that whatever you DO decide to focus on and work towards, it’ll be great, and you’ll KNOW the way as you go to and through it, for it’s YOU, you know? It’s merely parts of you that haven’t been revealed yes, but will. (Even so, know your worth!) x

      • My husband says you should record this on a tape and play it for me while I sleep (the cuting yourself short part – it is his lifelong dream!)

      • Haaa- I love it. 🙂

  13. Beautiful, as usual! ❤

  14. Oloriel at her finest! So intriguing piece. It’s always so great to find a new poem from you, my friend. Love and inspiration.

  15. I love that lemon zest. I could see a field of yarrow in my mind.

  16. Thank you for this poem… the ending is SO GOOD….

    • Thank you very much for reading and taking time to leave me a word of your own, I am very glad you could enjoy the poem also 🙂

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