by Conrad Schwellnus
Dorian’s picture is gray, so faded, I cannot even say —
— what it means to me anymore.
Find what I used to find alluring,
But the brush strokes of your mind demurring.
What lurks behind the picture, a notion ever Wilde,
Selfish and a need to be liked, just like a little child.
There is depth behind you, Dorian, and your heart is powerful,
Staying kind in all of this, but you know yourself doubtful.
Oscar my old friend, I can’t read you like I used to do,
My heart moved on, no romance red, but a gentle, clearer blue.
Floating somewhere between mind, body and the evergreen soul,
Getting through our thoughts, lurking in the reverence of a foal.
You wept for Dorian, he was what you never had — but something you always wanted,
Now people cannot forget, and revisit a lot, the words which you enchanted.
Ensnared and engulfed in a coffin of morbidity,
A paradox so truthful, your writing hides incivility.
Similarly to “Roaming”, this poem can also be considered a eulogy of sorts, and is a writing style I’m starting to get all the more excited about. “Dorian” is a tribute to Oscar Wilde, written after The Picture of Dorian Gray landed back on my desk (so to speak) from a friend who thought I may enjoy reading it. I read it in my early twenties but it has a different meaning to me now. This poem was inspired by the book, Wilde’s career and his writing style, which I find very unique.
If this is the first time you’re reading something from the anthology, why not have a gander over here for the rest of the poems in the series. We are getting awfully close to the end of this anthology, which will wrap up at the end of June. As always, thank you for supporting my writing by reading this poem and sharing in the journey with me.
– Conrad was here.