Poetry | Stories | Photography
sounds from far away,
yet nearer than first thought
come to you in shoal dreams.
swimming with sharks,
yet feeling no fear for they are not
interested in your ethereal shadows.
sirens singing from far away,
yet their befallen sorrow songs do
not sway your mind for you
are
light
and
shadow.
sitting together,
yet further apart than strangers
sorrow fills the air,
for they have lost so many things
some sit together
some sit apart
some stare into nothing
some sip on bitter words
some cry silent tears
still and sad;
all the lonely people in
so many relationships
a silent glance
we meet
a slight smile
you fidget
a soft red flush
I stir awhile
a sharp longing
eyes meet
as
we both
fall into
the fire
of love
so many shapes move
dark sets into the night
she’s no longer herself
light of those eyes dies
suffering seizes control
starlight begins to fade
she gave birth, but not life
darkness took all the light
In the snow, the seat is bare, except for you and a few tidy possessions.
You’ve been down this road before: broken and broke.
There’s nothing like poverty to make you feel like you’ve made the wrong choices. Yet, you are liberated now: free on this bench in the snow.
You think, “How beautiful the snow is as it falls. If I had a poet’s heart, and I was more familiar with words, I would articulate this scene with more purpose and beauty, but I cannot convey this; this is a photograph or a painting…“
You sit still in the snow, and you don’t notice the gun against your head until the jolt ends the falling snow for you.
Your last moments were broke and broken, beautiful and sad, as you thought of the falling snow.
What beauty in your death. Death on the bench in the snow as you sat full of a fading glow until the light turns to darkness.
Now you get the chance to do it all differently.
Under the soil;
You lay under the soil surrounded by the sounds of insects moving and water soaking into the soil.
Under the soil, there is a wooden box.
You lay in the wooden box with roses that once blossomed and bloomed, yet now the roses lay in petrified pieces upon your chest.
Under the soil alone:
You remain perfect in your chest of what once bloomed so beautiful and bright.
Under the soil, you are blossom and bone;
You remain silent and still as the stars and the moon sing their song to you.
Never one to believe in anything,
you adopt an elitist attitude towards those who hold opinions that are not your own.
A lady finds you to be her one and only,
for you and her connected many lives ago.
Now you’re arguing insistently, without
fully appreciating what her lips and mind are explaining.
She feels a pang of hurt as you tear layers of her arguments away without thinking of the consequences.
Not one to see your folly, you shovel the dirt from an increasingly large hole.
Seeing a chance, she pounces upon your weak argument like a Lioness from Eden.
Now you can see her, and your elitist bullshit begins to falter and fall away.
She catches you with her teeth, and you flail about like a rabbit not long for death; you both find deep love in two pairs of eyes.
Beauty moves within you,
for you possess a soul different to most.
Broken by things once horrible,
you took your experiences and ascended.
Boldly moving ahead of your time,
most people don’t get your quartz heart.
Brittle feelings once many,
now emotions of all kinds flourish within.
Brightly moving along the way,
you deserve more love
and
blue kindness,
for quartz is a beautiful gem
and
comes in many rare colours.
Broken and chipped cups
and sauces sit still in a
crate next to your kitchen
cupboards.
As a true bohemian and
lover of broken things, you
embrace Kintsugi.
To you, gold and silver joinery,
no matter the cost is more
beautiful than any
complete piece.
Those broken pieces are
your broken pieces, as you
mend the sorrows of your life.
Crying over a piece, you forget
yourself and reach for the kettle.
The Wildflower Tea of your
sorrow flows into your cup, yet
the hot water and steam turns
sorrow into sweetness, as you
sip from your cup of sparrows.
clouds betray our eyes
for we see blue, grey and white,
yet the dry land burns
C & K 