In the shade of the golden hour
A forest floor painted with the detritus of countless leaves, mottled and decaying, radiating the smell of opportunistic life.
An earthen aroma emanates-
something musty and damp, something striving to propagate.
Wet wood and stone, lingering death and perpetual ferment, synthesis into new life-
the ground delivers a dirge for children it has long since forgotten
as its current denizens echo the call.
They seek to be more than one among this field fathering the rank remains of many.
They seek independence and echo the song in partitions, their self contained struggles spilling into a shared system of strife and growth.
Molecules decay, half lives expiring, whittling away at the senses until only approximations of the past remain. Deep into their ranks through unseen roots and far above into the twilight canopy, titans siphon their remains and thrive, oblivious to the tumult of the ground below.
Decay and dissemination
Half lives and novae-
From many to one and from one to none.
In death and war, amidst chaos and fusion-
The sun sets again upon a land it knows not
as its children weep within the shade of another golden hour.
In the sky above, across galaxies and stars: past the trails of ancient starborn messages, each gasp traced to its source only to find novae burst millenia ago-
In their wake lies a field of swirling life, a primordial haze from which budding stars can emerge anew-
In their wake lies a fertile deathbed from which starving singularities can be born,
can sink deeper and deeper over a drowning expanse of time,
their wells inexorably drawing and drowing their brethren in their maw,
the pluming screams of fusion and
stress against growing cores of iron silenced as
they join themselves in oneness,
only to find their burdens accumulating more rapidly.
Camaraderie and fission
Casuistry and despair-
Galvanization and tears
Steadfastness and senselessness-
Ridicule and hope
Fear and love-
The broth churns and spills as twilight turns to darkness
In one eye, tears and the shaded visage of thoughts that have grown jaded from far too many promises ignored. In another more prospecting eye, opportunities spawn as earthborn, ambient divisions ooze, their fault lines begging for slippage, calling out to ones who can manifest their strife.
As the land shifts and chests tighten, the struggle enhances. The lovelorn and betrayed find their siblings in opposition, their aesthetics fodder for a galvanization that belies their shared passion.
Amidst this turmoil, the titans emerge. They claim the furor and fervor as their birthright and elevate the collective passion into mutiny and hatred. The chaos churns until the motion dies out and the cycle can be reborn anew from the ashes.
Entropy and ecstasy
Aggrandizement and ashes-
Pain and hope
Death and opportunity-
Within the eves that follow, the eternal rending echoes in a cascade,
Its replication the only constant within the whirling shade.
In a house’s remains, a child sits in pain. As they’ve cried out in frustration, their peers have looked at them coldly. For some of them, this moment has become a rite of passage for their kind- better to be soundly shattered and stitched together than burned beyond recognition. For others, this moment is a sign of weakness- a cruel reminder of past folly and pains better left forgotten. The memory of pain turns to ridicule as the wheel turns.
The child never cries again.
Woe and weariness
Numbness and momentary elation-
As the spoke creaks, its arc revolving,
the Earth spirals
the golden hour arising,
its shade ever enshrouding.
For the landlocked and lost, the land will continue to sing,
the collective dirge birthed from their deaf voices a testament to their reflected devotion.
In another cascade of light, they smile. In the warm evening glow, the canopy may be challenged as its edges are blurred, burning gently within the light. Within this filter, the Earth is cast through the tones of a humming hearth. The ephemeral love of another dawn is drawn into focus. For today, we'll forget the shade beneath the trees in hopes for the radiance above the canopy. For tomorrow, we'll consciously forget this exchange, its memory a cruel reminder of dangerous passions.
In the shade of today's golden hour, we'll dream of moments beyond our reach. And in the depths of the night, we'll pray our hopes were unseen, that they not be used as weapons against our loves.
siren songs and little things
i dream of too many songbirds
and silly little things
too wrapped in silk to see the consequences,
you see? and shadow minds on the other side.
croquet towers, a million little lights.
trapped ghosts in ivory towers,
those we've all seen before.
but lilac purple shawls don't lay across
our shoulders like they used to;
they hack and burn and sink through
the skin, right to the bone.
yellow sunrays, bouncing across the water.
and too many footprints in the wet sand.
brown paper bags on either hand, castigated,
sent to the edge of the forest until we can
remove the stain of life from our eyes.
mushroom dotted forearms, i look down,
see trails of ivy where my toes used to be.
wrapping around the earth, stone, sun.
bound by laws of gravity no one ever thought to teach.
repress the butterfly. silk wings for another day.
pinky finger in the sky, feel the wind,
like hot tea: surprise. and burn my lips.
birdsong for another day, lightning and
lighthouses for now.
shade your eyes from the light and
fight your way back to shore.
9.2.24
unto the new moon
swishing foot,
twirling in shadow
shaded in by some high rise and
blurred by the gleam of a stall;
light scattered by a still puddle.
a step past another,
an antiparallel twirl,
summoning forth past
through inexorable rifts:
a once endeavored jaunt in dreary rain.
a soaked, red, wooden bench,
paint chipped and wood frayed,
worn apart in threaded lines
under a dripping tree on a dark, cloudy evening;
maple seeds adrift,
damp in the rain,
their silhouettes spiralling
as wind chimes somehow twinkle persistently
in a happenstance harmony with the patter of rain
under a gray blue cloudy sky-
in the streaming grayed blue
a new wrinkle forms between wet threads,
torn apart through droplets of dull sunshine.
now anew in old,
bathed in blinding faded lights;
wrenching nostalgia,
on a field of wind whipped grass,
awash in rosy filtered evening sun;
melancholy of times thought unhad but
somehow known had in some
tangential, parallel form
tripping over nothing,
falling through the bottom of the sheets-
those rapidly undulating, ephemeral, thready sheets-
sinking momentarily, peacefully, perfectly;
ether, water, drained through a dark deep vent,
sucked and siphoned away
back into midnight of some city
world spinning
you, spinning
something natural,
an unfathomable moment,
an altogether opaque moment
feet swish,
head sways and dips
rain and sunshine
phasing through stars and midnight
in fluttering,
sparse,
threadbare sheets,
a lens blowing throughout,
precipitated,
crystallized, even,
within the moment
itself.
under a waning moon
born of midnight sun;
unto the new moon
beside memories of ancient stars
alongside visages new and fusing.
Dreamhouse
Pain painting the ink blue sky crimson red
I lay the building blacks of my dream house
Gently stroking the brush to get shades on the my canvas
Adding the wetness on my forehead
monochrome pink into my pallete
A pinch of yellow
Painting my canvas of dreams
Walls white, reflecting the bright, radiating positivity
Closet colour shaded with the room
Warm brown for the tiles, sooting like milk chocolate Stealing the crimson red from the sky I gave mirror a touch of red
Red with white flowers on it
Everytime I take a look at myself
Reminding me of the pain I have been through
Put My Heart Inside you
Your voice slowly reached its peak, the crumbled silence fell asleep. You are my Teddy Bear, my love. When you come into my room every night, I remember how little I know you. However, now you show up without warning. “Maybe please knock first?” Your sweet whispers are deceiving and I can feel my soul run away when you open your mouth. Unveiling horrific teeth and a smile plastered with malicious intent. “I have to get out of here, before his sweet whispers drive me insane, or have I already lost it?” I love taking photos and you like to stare at me through the lens. On one particular night... I saw you eat my photos as if they were a lunchbox snack. “Gosh, you’re so disgusting!” I feel like a barbie trapped by sweet whispers... there is no room for escape. “You’re fine, I’m sure if anything we’ll die together, plus our friendship will last forever, right?” You keep whispering sweet words into my ears, telling me you “love me” and that we are friends forever. With each word I give more of my heart to you, it feels like I have to put it inside you. The moon settles down but the terrorizing winds search for me, tonight the air feels dry. An ominous grin looms overhead. I can hear heavy chains being dragged to my door, I'm done with this. Sweet whispers won't kill me tonight. Just as Teddy stops at my door I can hear his maniacal laugh, I can picture his devilish face and hunger for me. Everything that I had feared led up to this, yet why was he hesitating? Then it happened... my door came crashing down and I could see those sweet whispers he had been telling me to stay safe and the words “I love you”. My precious Teddy was fighting an even greater evil that had taken control of him. Teddy split in two, from the sweet whispering darling doll I knew to the evil demon that had possessed my love. Without hesitation, I grabbed for the gun I had hidden into the side of my bed. The terror and horror that the demon had on its face was very satisfying, but I knew one thing. That was to live and to not let my Teddy witness my death. After hours of relentless defeats, the demon backed off and started to chant a spell on Teddy. "Not even the evils of hell can stop me now!" "Your heavy hellfire can't bring me down!” Soon the demon staggered back and collapsed with 100 holy bullets through the chest. Having wasted the gift from the Archbishop I managed to escape and the sweet, crispy, maple syrup, whispers returned. My heart is his, I love you, Teddy.
days daze
i've realized recently
that i don't have
good days
bad days
okay days
all of my days
my 24 hours
are just days
they blend into each other
seamlessly
until before i know it
it's midnight
and she asks me
"how was your day?"
and i don't know
how to answer that...
"my day was a day
was a day
is a day
it happened
and i...
experienced it
and now
it's over,
onto the next one
i guess."