"Corpse Flower" by Kelly Price

Naomi

2018-01-09 15:51:15 UTC

Tone: melancholy self-awareness
Quotes: “The bone: It is myself” “I gathered up your spine and built you an a dark day”

Chisom

2018-01-09 15:51:48 UTC

Soft Lure
Impossible longing

“The flowerhead shed clean, I gathered up your spine

and built you on a dark day.”

“A failure fragrant as magic.”

Callie

2018-01-09 15:52:50 UTC

Jaun

2018-01-09 15:53:34 UTC

Longing and drear

my trenza, a piece of my son’s umbilical cord, and still you don’t return.

Callie

2018-01-09 15:55:10 UTC

Chilling beauty
"The final petal curled its soft lure into bone”

Everlasting Searching
“...a piece of my sons umbilical cord, and still you don’t return
"Homing signal adrift among stars”

Josh

kprice4 — 2018-01-09 15:56:29 UTC

Cold beauty

Homing signal adrift among stars, our tender impossible longing.

Yesterday, the final petal curled its soft lure into bone.

The flowerhead shed clean, I gathered up your spine

and built you on a dark day

Lindsay

2018-01-09 15:57:07 UTC

“Empty connection”
"You’re still missing some parts” reflects the poet’s idea that her altar is not complete, that it is missing some sort of spirit. However, the phrase “I gathered up your spine and built you on a dark day” reveals the poet’s continued longing and remembrance of her loved one(s). Though her form of reverence is incomplete, she still diligently makes the effort in hopes that someday her altar will be complete and fulfilled.

Ja’Tae

2018-01-09 15:57:21 UTC

Nostalgia and insalubrious

the record that your perfect feet ever graced

Each morning, I curl red psalms into the shells

in your chest

Faith

2018-01-09 15:58:05 UTC

Soft beauty

“ Yesterday, the final petal curled its soft lure into bone”

 “the record that your perfect feet ever graced”

Mene Bagudu

2018-01-09 15:58:13 UTC

The mourningful and desperate ritual
"

Each morning, I curl red psalms into the shells

in your chest. I have buried each slow light: cardinal’s yolk, live seawater,

“

Mariela

mariquijada16 — 2018-01-09 15:58:41 UTC

-optimistic
“... the record that your perfect feet ever graced this earth”
-sorrowful
“I gathered up your spine and built you on a dark day.”

LAB

2018-01-09 15:59:07 UTC

my trenza, a piece of my son’s umbilical cord, and still you don’t return.

Insecure; reflective

What have I made of your sacrifice. This bone: it is myself.

Passionate

Keona

2018-01-09 16:00:37 UTC

Emptiness and weak

“What have I made of your sacrifice. This bone: it is myself.”

Taylor

2018-01-09 16:00:41 UTC

Melancholy, depressed

Homing signal adrift among stars, our tender impossible longing. 

What have I made of your sacrifice. This bone: it is myself.

John

2018-01-09 16:01:04 UTC

“What have I made of your sacrifice”

Hopelessness & utter despair

Jacky Lee

2018-01-09 16:01:22 UTC

Gracefully mournful and hopeful wishfulness

"a piece of my son’s umbilical cord, and still you don’t return".
 "I gathered up your spine

and built you on a dark day. "

Ayo Awobajo

2018-01-09 16:02:04 UTC

elegant observation
•"Ascend the spirit into the design"
•"You are still missing some parts"

Malcolm

2018-01-09 16:02:31 UTC

Necessitous, solemn

my trenza, a piece of my son’s umbilical cord, and still you don’t return.

in your chest. I have buried each slow light: cardinal’s yolk, live seawater,

Huh?

2018-01-09 16:02:31 UTC

Built complex

2018-01-09 16:03:20 UTC

Mournful longing and critical. “

“Each morning, I curl red psalms into the shells

in your chest.”

Aminkeng

kprice4 — 2018-01-09 16:03:59 UTC

"Forever Living Death"

A failure fragrant as magic. Ascend the spirit into the design.              What have I made of your sacrifice. This bone: it is myself.

2018-01-09 16:04:09 UTC

Morbid beauty.

2018-01-09 16:04:09 UTC

Morbid beauty.

2018-01-09 16:04:32 UTC

Macabre beauty.

Yesterday, the final petal curled its soft lure into bone.

The flowerhead shed clean, I gathered up your spine

and built you on a dark day.

2018-01-09 16:04:32 UTC

Macabre beauty.

Ahmed

2018-01-09 16:04:35 UTC

Macabre Beauty

Yesterday, the final petal curled its soft lure into bone.

The flowerhead shed clean, I gathered up your spine

and built you on a dark day.

2018-01-09 16:04:35 UTC

Macabre Beauty

Yesterday, the final petal curled its soft lure into bone.

The flowerhead shed clean, I gathered up your spine

and built you on a dark day.

Ahmed

2018-01-09 16:04:35 UTC

Macabre Beauty

Yesterday, the final petal curled its soft lure into bone.

The flowerhead shed clean, I gathered up your spine

and built you on a dark day.

Ahmed

2018-01-09 16:05:34 UTC

Macabre Beauty

Yesterday, the final petal curled its soft lure into bone.

The flowerhead shed clean, I gathered up your spine

and built you on a dark day.

Ahmed

2018-01-09 16:05:36 UTC

Macabre Beauty

Yesterday, the final petal curled its soft lure into bone.

The flowerhead shed clean, I gathered up your spine

and built you on a dark day.

Homing signal adrift among stars, our tender impossible longing. 

What have I made of your sacrifice. This bone: it is myself.

Lonely grief, dejection,

2018-01-09 16:05:54 UTC

"And still you don’t return”-illuminates how she is trying bring someone back, she is lonely trying to grieve which usually incinuates depression

Cønrad

2018-01-09 16:06:17 UTC

Solemn desperation; Tragic

Each morning, I curl red psalms into the shells in your chest. I have buried each slow light: cardinal’s yolk, live seawater,my trenza, a piece of my son’s umbilical cord, and still you don’t return.

Mikaela

2018-01-09 16:06:19 UTC

Lonely and sorrowful

“I gathered up your spine

and built you on a dark day. And still you don’t return.”

2018-01-09 16:06:44 UTC

Bea

2018-01-09 16:08:09 UTC

Mournful longing and critical.

“Each morning, I curl red psalms into the shells

in your chest. I have buried each slow light.”

j

2018-01-09 16:08:55 UTC

Dark and Mournful

 “I gathered up your spine

and built you on a dark day. You are still missing

some parts.”

“My particular chiron: the record that your perfect feet ever graced

this earth. Homing signal adrift among stars, our tender impossible longing.”

Michael

2018-01-09 16:08:55 UTC

Memorable and soft.

Yesterday, the final petal curled its soft lure into bone.

The flowerhead shed clean, I gathered up your spine

and built you on a dark day. You are still missing

some parts. Each morning, I curl red psalms into the shells

Mo

2018-01-09 16:15:14 UTC

Grief,
“still you don’t return.

A failure fragrant as magic.”

Reminiscent, “

I have buried each slow light: cardinal’s yolk, live seawater,

my trenza, a piece of my son’s umbilical cord, and still you don’t return.

Charity

2018-01-09 17:26:58 UTC

Contradicting yet specific
“What have I made of your sacrifice. This bone, it’s mysef.”

Melancholy and mournful
"A piece of my son’s umbilical cord, and still you don’t return”

Zion

2018-01-09 17:27:26 UTC

"Corpse Flower” as a title, juxtaposes life and death and seeming intentionally contradicts itself from the start. Continuing on, the tone of the poem is ethereal yet melancholy in nature; another contradiction.

"a failure fragrant as magic” is seemingly another contradiction, as magic is typically used to denote ones unintentionally or misunderstood success.

the theme of “failure” could even serve as continued testament to this poem as a whole. Though publishing a poem is widely considered a success, the quality of this poem, in my opinion, leads me to believe it is a failure, as it didn't necessarily grasp my attention as i feel as poem should, what with its redundancy barely expounding upon its initial theme of failed growth.

Mournful and lonely

2018-01-09 17:28:20 UTC

“I gathered up your spine and built you on a dark day”
"My trenza, a piece of my son’s umbilical cord, and still you don’t return”

Stephanie

2018-01-09 17:29:20 UTC

Sorrowful and mystical

A failure fragrant as magic.

Vulnerable and reflective

What have I made of your sacrifice. This bone: it is myself.