Rococobean - Rococobean

My shrine to Memento Mori by rococobean

- Vincent Van Gogh

Amateur

Once upon a recent time, there was a poet who hated rhyme. For each and every rhyming verse, he’d gnash his online teeth and curse, with all pretension he could muster that “coupled rhymes are so lackluster.”

And on he’d type, re: rhyming schemes, and freeform style’s “depths of themes". And that’s all fine and well and good: I just don’t think the critics should concern themselves re: all the fun that I’ve had ( i.e. writing this one).

My words don’t care for gnashed teeth, or high art skill, or market reach. So he can sit and seethe and gnash. But me? I’ll sit, relax and laugh, cobble rhymes both bad and worse, and sprightly spring ‘tween every verse.

-- rococobean

Something rotten, yet divine.

Prints

text version below (click on "keep reading")

Sanded by Kara

Daydreaming of the sea again Sitting on its sore shore Waves like a collar and chain Flowing with your tide As the moon nears the floor Devoted to its own time

Empathy

I have laid my hand over the pool of pain

Fingers spread, slow like I'll frighten it

Barely broken the thin skin at the top

Of the water you nearly drowned in

The cold sucked the breath from my chest

And I cried out and stumbled back

Clutching my burning icy hand

I stare at you. How did you survive this?

Does it ever go away? The furious ache?

I'm still gasping for breath.

You shrug. It hasn't so far but you should rest.

I should rest? What about you?

I'm trying. I'm so tired.

Tears gather in your eyes like crescent moons

There isn't enough time in the world.

I lay my new scarred hand on your chest.

Eyes are for sight and for tears, and it cries at what it sees

I hope Nael knows their poem made me cry

Acrylic paintings by Jason Limon on Instagram