Nothing Between

If I am the sky
            and you are the earth,
then what is there between us?
If only the horizon
            keeps us apart
then we share only the breath of the storm
and the kiss of the rain
            passing between us.
If I am the night
            and you are the day,
then only we meet at twilight,
and hold in that moment
            fleeting eternity.
And there,
            nothing is between us.

Prometheus

Fire your gift to me
and now I burn,
upon this pyre
my heart laid bare,
to be devoured
by the flames,
by your gift;
exposed the soul
for what it is
and what it is not –
alive in our breath,
and memory,
only to die
when both are lost,
ashes consumed
by the ghost of love.
But if not for the spark,
I would not burn,
I would not be,
and there would be
nothing to forget.

Fade

Faltering, we fade,
forgetting
            who
                        what
                                    why
we are.
Giving too much,
            too easy,
                        too fast,
taking for granted
that it will be
given in return.
Knowing from the beginning
that it wasn’t meant to be,
            wasn’t intended,
                        wasn’t expected.
In the end, the lights dim
            and into darkness
                        we fade.

Monster

 

Darkness descending,
deepening black;
a storm is coming
there’s no turning back.
This war I’m waging,
bitter and hollow;
my soul is raging
still this path I follow.
This fire consuming
burning and cold
blood in veins boiling
the anger takes hold.
Shadow unfolding,
night closing in,
the heart is now burning
cloaked in my sin.
Iron I’m tasting,
my longing is deep,
the beast I am freeing
from secrets I keep.
I am a creature,
a child of fire,
to bathe in the darkness,
my only desire.
 

Ugh.

 

Trimming the Fat

Last night was particularly interesting for me, breaking a short bout of writer’s block by coming up with a dozen new pieces. Tehcnically, I suppose that two of my pieces are really one, since the shorter one is just lines from the original longer piece. What happened is that I wrote the original piece, then for whatever reason realized that if I put every third line together, I had another poem, carrying the same message as the original piece, but in a much more eloquent way. I’m sure I’m not the first person to ever do this, and I’m sure that it’s been done deliberately by other poets, but I was pretty amused by the fact that it happened. I’m still not sure that it wasn’t really a product of just a late night fit of madness…

Anyway, here are the poems, both titled ‘Adrift.’

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