Tuesday, January 17, 2012


I count the thorns
that puncture and
tear; overwhelming
in number and
thickness, a density
of ripped sharpness
and points, they
strangle and kill,
eventually. Extracting
them from my hand
is painful.

This poem is submitted for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets. To see other poem submitted, please visit the site. The links will be live at 2 p.m. Central time today.

Photograph: Thistle in bloom by Petr Kratochvil via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission. 


Maureen said...

One of the mysteries of nature is how the beautiful can also be the painful; how we can reach for the one only to find the other. This can be extrapolated to so much.

Karen Kyle Ericson said...

Especially when we hold on to them tightly. : ) This is great Glynn! I think maybe a poetry book is coming from you. They're very good. I'm half way through Dancing Priest and loving it. We've had some distractions around here lately. But wanted to stop by and say hello : ) God bless!

hedgewitch said...

I've seen butterflies impaled on thorns like that...you'd think it was a bit of overkill, but that's the random action of nature's dance, and I know your poem is about more than just a plant--I'll salute its subtlety by allowing it the space to breathe.

Kathleen Overby said...

What Maureen and Hedgewitch said. Your book and this poem.....an irony is that the thistle is Scotland's symbol, a noble one, with much weight and mystery about it. "It isn't the critic who counts, it's the man in the ring......." Let those of us who love and respect you have more influence than the thorns. :)

See ~


Anonymous said...

to see
it attracts
the bee
i woud rather
my yard
were thistle free

S. Etole said...

So many border the yard. They attract both the butterflies and the gold finch once they go to seed. A mixed blessing.

Anonymous said...

but they look so lovely

Brian Miller said...

but in some ways, that pain reminds us that we are alive...smiles.

Jennifer @ JenniferDukesLee.com said...

Reading this, I thought about ways I throw out thorns to protect myself -- sometimes, unnecessarily.

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Implicit in this poem is the question: just how hard did you have to hold to get so many thorns?

Buddah Moskowitz said...

BTW - I really liked this.

Anonymous said...

The poem goes perfectly with the image - I sympathise with the thorns - ouch

Laurie Kolp said...

Nice contrast represents the fine line between so many things.

caryjo said...

Sure telling the truth. Always lovely and ready to "nail" us if we're not careful. Maybe it's philosophical. Hmm.

Pat Hatt said...

A little pain is a good thing, but only a few pricks here and there. Cat scratches are fun too..haha

Maude Lynn said...

Gorgeous in its deceptive simplicity. Beautiful, clean write.

Anonymous said...

Ouch! Great photo, love the images and tactile nature of the metaphors. Nicely done.

Shashidhar Sharma said...

Living is actually painful.. and that is the reason its so beautiful.


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