Wednesday, 29 April 2015

Day 29: Review Poem


The prompt today is to write a review poem - of a person, a place, an inanimate thing, whatever.

I'm using this prompt to write a poem that has been percolating in my mind now for a while on metaphorical matter I find quite fascinating: gold. Not only as a precious metal (which did you know has its origins in gamma rays and star explosions?) but in language - how many idioms there are about gold, most denoting preciousness and worth and value. And of course, a lot to do with love also, and personally in my case, a lot to do with a review (and closure) of a certain love.


You were gold, all gold.
Gilded golden boy wonder.
Gold like the sun, like a charm, good cheer. 
First prize, precious, priceless, 
beyond all other treasure. 
Gold like a certainty, like a light.   
Boy with a Midas touch: world 
at once a glistening palace 
for us to loot.  Struck gold, 
smiles that tumbled like coins, 
your gaze the pure warm ochre
of high carat calibre feeling. 
Before I knew it, I was rich.
And they were goldrush days - 
hearts that whirled in a current
as we panned endless wonder, 
keen prospectors 
of a wealthy future. 
Glimmer-filled fever. 
Between us, a goldmine 
of potential
worth its weight in bulk. 

Then all of a sudden: bad alchemy, 
bad luck. Time set to tarnish.  
All that glittered became a cloud, 
all that gold overwhelming. 
Love reduced itself to currency,
quick sell to the highest bidder
as you minted a binding prop -  
a promise to keep, a circlet,
a guarantee, gleam of truth
overlooked - 
and sold me out. 
the most golden of rules. 

Worthless is a long way 
to drop. I should have known
a heart of gold
would have a hard touch.
Now I wonder was it really 
treasure I lost? 
In the alluvial soil of memory -
gold ore nuggets of moments
shine clear, tears of the sun 
abandoned in earth.
But if it was real gold - 
how could you have so lightly 
let it go? A question that weighs 
heavy on me since.

More likely it was just
plain over-valued rock.
An eager digger's mistake 
of gnarled pyrite - crystal aggregates 
that glint deceit sharp as teeth,  
errant imitation 
of the real thing.
Fool's gold -
that took me in, wrung me out
for all I was worth. 
Fool's gold, all of it, all of you,
all mine, deposited deep.

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