Stacie, over at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, asked us to write a poem based on a specific metaphor. I remembered a throne-like golden chair I saw in the news the other night, and I thought about how the hideously ostentatious image still made my eyes want to wretch. I focused on that particular bit. And, to celebrate the birthday of our dark, wild and slightly mad Edgar Allan Poe (Jan. 19, 1808 – Oct. 7, 1849), I took the feeling and Poe-tized it bloody.
“Truth Turns Revenant”
Smoke, blood and ashes
in his soul, out of his mouth
poison shines like gold.
When the truth turns revenant,
many hearts invite death’s teeth;
but some claw (and survive)—
digging rot out of eyeballs,
seeing the poison in his shine.
See the poison in his shine.
Linked to Prompt Nights (On Popular Demand – Glimpse into the world of Edgar Allan Poe).
“Silent Heart”, by Billi Capman
(I chose this image, which doesn’t have all that much to do with the poem, because as the artist suggests, it shows “a hint of Edgar Allan Poe”, and today is all about the Poe-man).