Under My Thorns

My skin is made of sentient thorns,
coated with well lived words
and a patch of forget-me-nots,
which shields all that grows
in the chambers of my heart.

Once upon three forevers ago,
while my hips were lines
and my chest was too new to feed
anyone but me, I believed

my forget-me-nots were too dear,
too costly for me to afford a blooming coat
that could cover me from thought to step—

then and now, I’ve been wrong
so many times. The flowers do cost,
but deep-deep-deep, under my thorns,
forget-me-nots grow wild and free.

Where only I (and my chosen) can feel,
thorn turns to petal, love rules the field.
Outside, where hate often licks unseen,
my thorns are ready to impale its tongue,
to deny its rotting kiss.

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a wee note…
The last few days have been emotionally charged to the brim. The horrors that touched France are rippling through the feeling world, making anyone (with a brain and heart) rage and mourn. I tend to cope with most of my raging and mourning, by morphing them into words. So I was thankful when Sanaa, over at Prompt Nights, asked for poetry that reminded us that “Hate’s a parasite that rots the Soul”. And at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Karin is “In the Market for Poems” that make us “Consider some kind of bargain, exchange, purchase, promise.” I’m also linking this piece to Poets United (Poetry Pantry #311).

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Frankenstein and Forget-Me-Nots, by Winter Moon“Frankenstein and Forget-Me-Nots”, by Winter Moon Vintage
(You can find this art print and much more on her Society6 shop. And if you delight in her work as much as I do, you might also want to follow her blog).

75 thoughts on “Under My Thorns

  1. Hate is certainly a rotting kiss –and you have captured how we need to arm ourselves against hate and not be worn down. These latest events are by individual crazy guys! And yet people turn them into excuses for a big hate. Your word play is so clever here and your extended metaphors. Thanks, Magaly. k.

  2. deep-deep-deep, under my thorns,
    forget-me-nots grow wild and free

    I love these lines, and how you wove the contrast between thorns and flowers throughout.

  3. Strong words about keeping the soft and beautiful mowed down or walled off because of hate and hurt. I am so glad you Forget-Me-Nots are wild and free now. Loved, loved, loved this!

  4. I do so much sympathise with this, but I’m so afraid it will be forced division, and hate for sale… Alas I’m not positive we can trade love.

    • I don’t think love and hate are things than can be traded for each other. I’ve never understood the concept of offering the other cheek to an abuser. If you don’t want to strike back, at least move out of the way, or find a way to protect yourself, but allowing someone to hit you is just silly to me. We always need to protect ourselves, but always being careful not to completely lose the Self under the protection.

  5. Gosh Magaly, this is absolutely gorgeous writing ❤💜 absolutely love the images which you have woven into this poem, especially “Where only I (and my chosen) can feel, thorn turns to petal, love rules the field” left me breathless. Beautifully executed. Thank you so much for participating at Prompt Nights and for your constant love and support ❤💜

    Lots of love,
    Sanaa

  6. I really appreciate this poem. How to defend ourselves and those we love from getting caught up with horror and hate. Beautifully strong images created with your words,,,

  7. Outside, where hate often licks unseen,
    my thorns are ready to impale its tongue,

    One is disgusted with all the horrors afflicting the world. One is ready to fight it with whatever means. Very true Magaly and terrific lines rendered here in support!

    Hank

  8. this is so beautiful and moving Magaly…let countless forget-me-not bloom…i also do not believe in turning the other cheek rather trust in spreading the hood and hiss and of course not bite…

  9. And so beautifully morphed are your thoughts – in your own magical, sincere and gracious form – sometimes we need to wrap ourselves up..have some kind of defence thorns turning outwards not in.. sadly..and yet still there is hope..a chance to change the story – Once upon three forevers ago – a line to run and wonder with

  10. Oh to see a better view of those forget-me-nots that grow wild and free…..and not be harmed by the thorns nor lured by that rotting kiss! Powerful words, Magaly.

  11. “I believed

    my forget-me-nots were too dear,
    too costly for me to afford a blooming coat
    that could cover me from thought to step—”

    We so often do, and yet your final lines show the real truth of the garden–love this Magaly–heartfelt, heart-whole, caring and compassionate words.

  12. This is a powerful write and one that makes the reader pause.

    then and now, I’ve been wrong
    so many times. The flowers do cost,
    but deep-deep-deep, under my thorns,
    forget-me-nots grow wild and free.

    Flowers do cost, but the wildflowers still grow wild and free…and that brings hope…

  13. Hate sadly is infectious and our reaction is to hate in return. If we try to understand we are thought weak or if we take retaliatory action we are considered as bad as the perpetrators which is exactly what they want. Clearly we have some deep thinking to do. This is so hard when our hearts and minds are full of love and yet so ineffective.

    • If we could only find balance between protecting ourselves from the infection, while at the same time searching for a way to understand the carrier… It’s difficult, indeed, but I think that we–as a species–have accomplished many difficult things. I’m hoping for better…

  14. Yes, Magaly – I feel the need for those wildflowers too, like rainbows after storms — nature has a way of reminding us continually of the love available, if only we choose it and not hate & violence. Thanks for sharing.

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