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Sensational Eternal Flower

Sensational Eternal Flower

Sriya Tallapragada

French and English intertwined to create a poem that touches hidden sensations of the eternal flower.

A Poem: Sensational Eternal Flower

Eternal Flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq,
I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit,
I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours,
My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it,
Every French word  feels romantic and timeless,

Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter,
Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti,
Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep,
Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss.

Here, I trade popcorn and perfume with my friends,
Scattering perennial seeds as we walk,
Here, if you close your eyes long enough,
You can almost block out the feeling of a slow-rolling genocide in your organs,

Unheard the sound of the groaning graveyard,
The pain is trapped in the strands of our hair,
A blistering animal in moonlight,
In the red-stained grounds and the dancing ghosts around the château.

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq,
We prefer numbers over daggers,
Watching the flowers we planted pull bliss out of the earth,
Stained roots spreading across the ground like open arms.

Hiding where metal can’t reach,
Je veux pour toujours continuer a fleurer,
If we are lucky, we can bloom under the tangled corpses and dreams,
Tout comme une fleur éternelle,
Blooming like an eternal flower.

Read more Poems at The Teen Pop Magazine

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

See Also

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, I am tired of counting: seis, sept, huit, I am tired of running, courrier pour Toujours, My tongue is all tied up in pretty words, but it is worth it, Every French word  feels romantic and timeless, Just like the canals and perfect pink candy tins that scatter, Echoey slurs that peel over the city like graffiti, Here, the hum and heat rocked us to sleep, Draped in the blanket of infinity bliss. flower

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