It was his voice.

Why tease myself
With a foolish hearted swan
Feathered one
Again we fall into deep despair
This gear just cannot be oiled
If only you understood
How real this has become
Fantasy world
That is what I want
A man can go so deep within his own imagination
That it became life
And breathes life
Can you love a man like me?
So lost within his own forbidden garden
But I won’t beg your pardon
Unable to get a taste from the tree which bares sweet fruit
I was just blessed with seeing the bitter truth
I just heard my grandfather speak to me
I have not heard his voice in years but I knew it was him
It was his voice
I had forgotten until just then
And I’m happy
To offer you the prizes of this earth
Gold and diamonds
Oh turn from me now
Don’t look upon the face of fools
Because I love you
Yes I can
But to provide the jewels of the great Nile
No No
That I cannot do for you my love
My flower
So again I ask of you
My sweet
Turn from me
And as the night did come
The words passed before his lips
As the woman with no name did speak to them
I asked for nothing in the means of material possession
Why do you believe this is all that I could crave…?
You turn your head from me
Why do you do this…?
Is your shame so complex and so deep?
When you hold me in your arms I know
When you taste me upon your lips
Do you not know?
Don’t you see my love it is for you-?
It is not based upon what you can provide
Hold me
Show that you still love only me
Then she embraces him
Holding him close to her breast
I am your fool
And with a tear in her eye
The book was closed
Never to be reopened
The ink faded and the roses died
Peddles crumbled upon the stale ground
Oh come and see the gloom within her eyes
Calling out in vain
As a fresh apple falls from its branch
Landing before his feet
Her reflection shines back
Deeply engraved in its thin red skin
To dare is to pick up this forbidden fruit
Sinking teeth into its sweet flesh
And with one bite
One small taste
He was not ashamed
Oh come and put away that gloom within their eyes
Filling them with potential and love
Not with greed
Sin and lies.
(To my Grandfather-With love)

It was his voice.

john blankenburg

Grafton, United States

  • Artist

Artist's Description

Woke up one morning- Had a dream of my grandfather who had died over twenty years ago.
I had forgotten what his voice had sounded like. But in my dream I heard him talking- and it was his voice just as I had remembered. And I woke up inspired and wrote this poem. Love ya grandpa- still miss ya- Ya ain’t forgotten.


bite sin lies dare

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