I love it when you write Ingrid!! Great title, black rose signifying death lets us know where you are headed with this. Super visual and heartfelt...awesome my friend :)

Awesome piece

This piece reeks of nostalagia (in a good way, of course)

The 'deserted fields' must be where the persona and his sister played when they were little. Just like in the character's 'mind's eye', you've painted the imagery vividly for the reader.

"His sister's laughter echoes in his ears
Brittle leaves swept by bellowing winds,
in between the first pristine snow"

Beautiful^ The 'laughter-brittle leaves-bellowing winds' didn't just give a descriptive image in my mind, they added to the cadence of this piece. I could easily imagine myself in that field, with the rustling of dry leaves as the winds blew them on the ground. I always thought the beginning of Winter is so melancholic, and the way you penned that is sooo beautiful here.

"The shrill cry of a vulture startles him
and as a strange music begins to play
he awakens and starts to weep"

I don't know how many times that has happened to me.. 'Vulture' gave this piece the atmosphere of death in the air. Beautiful. Keep writing
-X

Ingrid.

Your poems are always a pleasure to read. This one is special. I have to agree that this little spark of nostalgia couldn't ever be denied. I felt all throughout the piece. I don't know if you were talking about losing someone but if you are then I can relate to this. I know what it is like to remember someone, wishing you had more than just a punch of recollections. Tell me about it. The sullen October morning and the the first pristine snow image were heartbreaking that I couldn't help but have pointed them out.

The title is a bit too overused in my opinion, like a 'Black Rose' is seen much often in poetry. Unless you have some symbolism behind it. Then I totally respect that. I loved how you mentioned music in the end. Nostalgia + music always touch my heart. I don't know I just find them poetical put together.

Loved the read. :)

Oh! Now I got that. Such a wonderful tribute. Amazing job, Ingrid.

This was a great poem, I was impressed by the image. When I first saw the poem, I thought it looked like a diamond but it can also look like a rose too.

Lovely all throughout! i pictured every line in my head, i loved how in depth your imagination is. sad that it ended knowing it was only a dream but beautiful nonetheless! keep writing! 5/5

Ash

Very nice imagery, good poem

pain sometimes haunts our dreams but that way we don't forget and we learn to cherish that pain

5/5

Ok... So this is the second poem of yours that I've read, of your over 300... still.

to me about to seconds to add you to my favorite authors list.

love the refreshing styles and ideas you put into your work. this poem... being the shape of a rose,
just... AND sounding amazing!! just plain enjoyable. cant wait to read more.
thank you

A nice poem Ingrid, and the rose display was genius! A very visual piece!

Amazing. You kept the form and managed to keep a flow, I always find that hard to do. Great choice of words, I really loved the last little bit with the vulture. A sad but beautiful write, 5/5

mandy :)

Ingrid, I cannot believe I haven't read this beauty of yours before, or at least all the way through. This was so well-crafted, and I loved the images that you give so the reader can imagine this friend of yours, who is going to be missed, and will miss the place he has always called home. There was so much depth just beyond what I read, I love how you wrote this for him and that this was his nickname. It's like this homeland of his will always remain in his heart, but he knows he must leave, leave behind his family, those bright memories. And then knowing he has to wake up and go. Absolutely heartbreaking but you beautifully expressed that sadness.

I hope you are doing well Ingrid :]
Thanks for sharing!!!

Excellent write, sad and haunting. A lovely choice of words and the flow of the write is spot on.

I loved what you did to incorporate an image of the rose, that must have be a pain to get right!

Excellent!

I don't think I've read anything of yours before, Ingrid...I wish I had because this is awesome. I heard some great reviews and discussions about this poem, and had to read it :)

The visual of the rose brings a nice touch to the poem, and the words are so nostalgic that it really brings me into the poem.

This is really heartbreaking, but nice how you dedicated this to your friend, shows your heart...and I love that in poems.

Awesome piece
xx

Firstly, nice work on the shape poem! Beautifully done and a nice addition to the title 'Black Rose'.

One sullen October morning
his feet lead him to the deserted fields,

^^ A great opening! Definitely sense the melancholy feel of the poem here. I feel like this person is going to a place commonly associated with someone... a loved one, family member, close friend? someone who is no longer in his life unfortunately. Remininiscing the times that were had at the place...

where once their heads reached for the skies

^^ My interpretation here is they felt liberated here... free to think and feel and dream what they wished... no boundaries or restrictions...

In his mind's eye the images still vivid
of waving tapestries of yellow, red and white

^^ Honestly, I have no clue about this part. 'Tapestries of yellow, red and white..' Kites? Or symbolic of something else?

His sister's laughter echoes in his ears
Brittle leaves swept by bellowing winds,

^^ The person he is reminiscing is his sister... has she passed away somehow? Or did they have a fall out and no longer see each other, only he regrets it? Some other reason?

in between the first pristine snow
His footsteps creating a path
on the map of yesteryear
His breath like smoke,
blown into hands, trembling
from the bitter cold

^^ The imagery here is so vivid, so powerful. It really sets the scene for the reader. Great descriptions.

Deafening silence,
mist rolls in
The shrill cry of a vulture startles him

^^ The sadness is definitely evident here. The use of 'vulture' brings to mind death or at the very least: loss. Just one word has such a powerful impact on the way the reader interprets this piece.

and as a strange music begins to play
he awakens and starts to weep

^^ so he was dreaming this all along? a nightmare..? Awakened by an alarm perhaps, to signify a day of rest, before the nightmares return...?

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^^ Are these representational of kisses? Tears perhaps? Or simply added only for decoration - the stem of the black rose?

Always in my heart, my friend;)

^^ So a friend so close that you think/ thought of her as a sister? Or simply a statement of the amiable bond shared between the two of you? A simple ending/statement, but a beautiful one.

OVERALL;
This piece is quite short, but holds so much content that without reading it, no one would realise/ believed even existed. At first it seems a simple piece - beautiful in its simplicity - but then readers can look deeper and see the intricate meaning behind each line; the layers of meanings.

It's a rather splendid little piece.

A beautiful write Ingrid, just beautiful. So full of true poetice expression and beautiful words.
I wish I could write like that.

Hello Ingrid,

You have blown me away with the shape. I have been wondering what shape to write another poem in. A black rose is amazing and looks exquisite.

A black rose: I guess most people think of death or hatred. But reading up on this, it can also mean goodbye, rejuvenation and even rebirth of a physical form or a drastic life change. Apparently there is no true back rose, more a deep dark red, which I like all thee more as it resembles blood, which also has much symbolism.

With this said, I will comment on this beautiful poem:

One sullen October morning
^
From the 'off' you conjure an autumnal feel by using the month 'October'. The addition of the word, 'morning' give a damp, slightly cold misty feel with a hint of sun trying to work through the 'sullen' morning depression. A great introduction in so few words, 8 syllables to be exact! lol

his feet lead him to the deserted fields,
^
Okay, a male is heading this piece. I visualise walking boots treading over fields where many have trod before, now deserted. His mind in considered contemplation of when the field was active'

where once their heads reached for the skies
^
His memories, sad and etched have not diminished with time. This line tells of a gathered group looking up, or perhaps when there confidence led them to pursue their dreams?

In his mind's eye the images still vivid
^
Time has not faded his memory. Memories that are harrowing become permanently etched and remain with us. It is like seeing it again and again on repeat like it was just yesterday.

of waving tapestries of yellow, red and white
^
Here I will be guessing somewhat. A flag, a collection of patriotic flags; Austrian or Germanic? being waved by a passionate countrymen. I am not sure if this along the right lines, but it feels like a concept that fits.

His sister's laughter echoes in his ears
^
I am not sure if this is a disturbing recollection or a warm feeling? If his sister was killed it would hold bittersweet memories and the black rose could be for her. A dark loss of someone so precious and beautiful.

Brittle leaves swept by bellowing winds,
^
The leaves are (to me anyway) like dried memories, tears even being ripped away by a force of nature. Brittle: meaning fragile and delicate. Bellowing: meaning shouting forcefully; a bully perhaps? Good imagery here, I can see the carpet of dried multi coloured leaves being washed away.

in between the first pristine snow
^
This is interesting. We now have snow which seems to mean we have skipped forward into winter, or at least the first signs of it. The image is clear though and I see a perfect white carpet of winter snow.

His footsteps creating a path
^
Again, the image blends into a trail of footfall. This links nicely to the beginning 'his feet lead him...'

on the map of yesteryear
^
Like the in the introduction, the deserted field flet like they were full of his memories. He is now walking the map of his and others memories. The word 'yesteryear' makes me think of war time perhaps. Like these memories are from a hard time when many lost their lives and loved ones.

His breath like smoke,
^
His pulsed warm breath becomes a 'smoke' when it hits the starkness of the cold winter air.

blown into hands, trembling
from the bitter cold
^
I can relate to this. At first the cold is liberating, but the longer you remain in the cold, you become like it: cold. Using life, energetic and warm to keep the extremities from freezing.

Deafening silence,
^
This is so true. Silence can be deafening. The silence which gives way to uninterrupted though and wistfulness. The memories become so vivid, so real that when they are haunting it is like an onslaught on the senses.

mist rolls in
I see this as a break from his memories and his consciousness being led back into reality.

The shrill cry of a vulture startles him
^
and the vulture's cry brings him back into stark reality. The vulture hold much symbolism too. A bird that scavenges on dead flesh. They circle and wait until their victim is too weak to fight them off. The sight of this bird is most sinister and is enough to make ones skin crawl.

and as a strange music begins to play
he awakens and starts to weep
^
He is now back in the real world, today's world where he realises that his sister is no longer with him. His friends are gone too. He has walked through a graveyard of haunting dreams and is only left with music, some kind of tribute and feeling bereft.

I see this as a back rose for his sister left at the place where she rest of where she died perhaps?

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^
The stem of the rose is perfectly illustrated here. there is no real other way to show this other that kisses XX or tears ""

A red rose can often be a romantic gift, representing romance and love. Black roses are symbolic of a tragic romance. They are related to sadness that may occur in the relationship.
^
I wish I had read this to start off with. Just a suggestion, maybe this could be a prologue?

A lovely poem Ingrid, a challenging shape which I know would have taken time to hone into its shape. The content, although intriguing is full of imagery and emotion. The history is there for us, the reader to ponder on its meaning and use the clues to come to a conclusion. I am not sure if I have extrapolated the essence of this poem, but nevertheless, I have enjoyed walking within and around your words.

Well done, and take care,

Michael. (((hugs))) xx