Persephone, Please.

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Angeline
Angeline
87 Followers

So listen, snow?

Could you blow,
and crack the cheeks
of your last
tormented particles?

Poor Tom's a'cold.

Would you,
you brittle thief,
you fractious plague
of ice?

You eat precious time,
swaddling hours' bones
in fragile slips of glass.

Listen nadir of Boreas,
could you return now
to your Thracian bed
and sleep?

Persephone has Raynaud's.
Unleash her blue fingers
to a rising warm.
Release her.
Open her palms.
Just sprout one
silky crocus.

Angeline
Angeline
87 Followers
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  • COMMENTS
7 Comments
TathagataTathagataover 19 years ago
before this

the only Persephone I knew was a tattooed fetish model.

: D

I won't waste words

Excellent poem, I had to look up a few references, it was worth it.

( and that first verse is so hip/slang jazz fueled and from a Roxy Music song, and from Shakespeare...but All poets know all their references right??)

; )

stellar work Ange

sacksackover 19 years ago
marvelous word painting...

I really liked the nadir of Boreas line. This is a very well constructed poem, and a pleasure to read!

twelveoonetwelveooneover 19 years ago
For Angeline

very well done, thank you

here is another 100

AnonymousAnonymousover 19 years ago
well

I truly like this. Of course, I love shakespeare. Anyway, I like this style as much as all your others.

AngelineAngelineover 19 years agoAuthor
For 1201

There are two references in this poem to the third act of Shakespeare's King Lear--where Lear, the Fool, and Edgar are wandering helpless on a stormy heath. The first "Blow winds and crack the cheeks of your last tormented particles" refers to:

KING LEAR: Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!

You cataracts and hurricanes, spout

Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!

You sulphurous and thought-executing fires,

Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, [5]

Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,

Smite flat the thick rotundity o' the world!

Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once,

That make ingrateful man!

The second "Poor Tom's a-cold" is a line repeatedly spoken by Edgar, who is Lear's illegitimate son, here masquerading as a madman "Tom O'Bedlam." "Bedlam" was an infamous insane asylum in London.

That's where it all came from. :)

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