Mingle with the Orange Tinge

After the dream but before I wake
Dancing before my still closed eyes
Slivers of the soft and sweet
Mingle with the orange tinge

I gaze into the mercurial sea
Tempted by madness not my own
Singing silent songs of sirens
Drawn in like any other man

An affair where nothing was left to rest
Everything bare upon a platter
Naked to my star-crossed lover
Raped upon by my own concern

Waves of pleasure roam my being
Pandemonium spliced with foreign soil
Blooming orchids made of cotton
Something fragile, strange yet pleasant

Sandalwood fills these dying senses
Hips of roses sashay the floor
Scarlet splashes across the page
And everything returns to the void inside

I face the light that slowly approaches
Burning receptors newly revived
A haze is lifted but another settles
Red and yellow mix again.

~~~

This one was a little forced. I just revised a line before posting it too. I wrote it stubbornly against my writer's block.

I enjoyed the poem for the images and smells it conjured for me. Lovely. :)

I like this, Alteine. I like your images, and the idea of all this happening in that period that occurs between sleeping and and waking. The images seem both pleasant and discordant-and life is sometimes like that.

Sometimes when you want to write, you just have to do it, whether there is a flow or not. Someone once said to me that great writers have tremendous control over what they are writing, and I personally think that writing is a mix of the fabled inspiration and perspiration. So, keep writing!

Really loved these lines:

I gaze into the mercurial sea
Tempted by madness not my own
Singing silent songs of sirens
Drawn in like any other man

That Siren call hits us all, I think...