The Rose


Here’s a Throw back poem I’ve managed to salvage I think it’s from 2010 if I’m not mistaken. Enjoy!

The Rose

By: James Revels III

Remember when I saw you?

I was walking through a garden,

Your smell and beauty attracted me,

It soothed my soul,

So I picked you up and planted you in my front lawn,

You were my most prized possession,

I loved you so much.

But remember when you gave me those glasses?

You know, the ones with the funny color?

I put on the glasses,

I remembered how I thought my sight was better,

How I thought you helped me see you better,

You loved me so much.

Then I tried to hold you,

But when I did you spat words that pierced like thorns,

You missed my heart and hit my soul,

Oh, how I suffered that day!

I wonder what happened to you,

I had loved you so much.

I remember how I wished you would wither and die,

Until I saw you again,

Sitting exactly where I left you,

But bigger and more beautiful than before,

The aroma of nostalgic feelings filled the air,

I took your glasses,

I set them at your roots and walked away.

As I walked a way I heard footsteps,

I turned around,

I saw a boy admiring you,

And by the look in his eyes

He loved you very much.

 

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60 thoughts on “The Rose

  1. A Rose
    Thorns planted by Thor
    and Awe Thor Rit E is mine
    A crown of thorns is for me
    Formed and for med
    I am X sell Lent
    Suc Queue Lent
    Pass over my Crown of Thorns
    I am Tree mend US
    Tremendous,
    lacking me G you can only suffer
    If Roses are Red
    and blue blood is blue
    it is true
    that I am the light of the world
    in Gene New Witty is G
    Bring me my 4 horsemen
    Bring me my crown of thorns
    Bring me my masons
    and pyramid builders
    Bring me my Templar Knights
    Where is my Pope
    a footstool
    in G new witty
    ingenuity and Buy Allah G
    I am here to teach you physics
    and Scat Allah G
    I have already made a ROSE
    I died I Rose
    Neither heaven nor hell
    Could keep me away
    Now bring me my thorns
    and 10,000 Templar Knights
    and an Armada
    bearing gifts for my betrothed
    The mother of God
    Maria of Binan
    An Augustinian Teacher
    of Buy Allah G
    Biology
    A Rose
    Christ has died
    and Christ has ROSE

      1. oops! I know I can’t have the moment back, but if I could I would have posted a comment to your poem “The Rose”. I got all caught up in reading and reading and reading… lol

  2. I enjoyed this very much, especially the lines:

    “The aroma of nostalgic feelings filled the air,

    I took your glasses,

    I set them at your roots and walked away”

    (but really then whole poem is wonderful!)

    I came here because you had ‘liked’ several of my blog posts/poems, (thanks very much, by the way) and I am so happy I did: I really appreciate your writing style. It appeals to me very much.

  3. Leo, this is fabulous work…love the rose and garden and glasses …all tied to bring out the complexities in relationships. Good job!

    I plan to return and read more…soon! thanks 4 stoppin by.

  4. your muse…how beautiful…
    I always wondered why our “muses” always seem to have that ability to just rip our souls out, stomp them into the ground…and inspire us simultaneously…
    I guess it is all about balance…super inspiration and heart break…

    Fucked up trade off if you ask me…(and even tho you technically didn’t…).
    -me ; /

    1. LOL thanks for the compliment. I’ve also wondered why heart break or any trying time is the cause of many great works of art…hmmm…maybe I might write about that in an upcoming post

      1. Probably because we are raw and not in a position to hold back…or maybe it is our moment free from the influences of judgement. Maybe kinda like a two-year old throwing a fit in a store over whatever issue…they just don’t give a fk what other people think in that moment…and honestly, neither do I when I am in the heat of a passionate feeling (good or bad). lol

  5. Such powerful metaphor, and yet with some humour, as people draw parallels for their own lives, words and thoughts or even memories spill over. On common ground we can all stand, and look back at the beauty we have left behind. Yet this poem is a healer, don’t believe me, look closer.

    Many thanks to L.R. for sharing this poem.

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