Poetry
This is the general category of fuckery that goes on and on and doesn’t seem interested in stopping.
-
I haven’t seen a sky like this in so long
I don’t know all of their names
They aren’t all on the map
Well known lights get lost in the new but not new they were there but. I feel like I could stare forever.
Flickering heartbeats in the sky.
Quiet cul-de-sac I’ll be the strange one staring at the sky at things I’ve seen before, but never knew how to voice how much I miss when they aren’t there.
There are too many to remember ancient names.
I may have to make my own.
I feel so alone when I can’t see them, when I stare into the blue and see nothing when I know something is there
They tell the story of tomorrow yesterday
Shining brightly in the night air unlike anything
No contest.
Because there never was one not really.
I can’t wait for my man and his dog to return.
I have to show them I’m still here.
I’m going to begin missing Saturn
He’s going back around too.
I can’t have both that would be too easy.
But I miss my wolf,
And the wildness he puts in me.
I really don’t have it
Unless you remind me you’re there
I forget that in the day I’m unable to see but they don’t see the sky
Or the ocean
From the eyes down here but from up there
Up
Sorry out.
Out there.
I hear them whispering as silent as they are invisible
But still seen.
Through the wind and the far off waves.
So many new lights,
Not even the best night.
I think I like this place. I have somewhere to hide.
No comments on -
Why when the wind doesn’t know where it’s going.
When the direction has no direction, merely swimming in the uneasy breeze.
Stars blinking in and out
Planets in masquerade
The clouds forming pockets and covers, but at least one, at least one.
Wondering where the way went.
Wondering if I had one.
In the quietest nights I find moments.
He said it’s time to throw out the same repeating
Things that don’t make me smile anymore.
Need new coincidences, something new to start on.
This journey home I’ve never made before.
Home to the night.
I miss you.
I love you.
Good night.
-
The sky seems so much bigger
The sun filtering through never ending clouds.
The drawings of the clouds, the watercolour skies.
Dolphins jumping from waves and entities cities rise and fall.
The marked unbelly of a storm in the wisps and the swirls.
If all there was was the sky, but then where would the clouds fall to.
Still singing for rain as the lights turn dark and the evening wind blows in.
The sun sets slowly behind the layers of cloud.
They lie sleeping beneath a shroud.
The puffs and the not so softly growing collecting in the distance.
This sky you don’t see.
-
Sitting on the dead tree
Strange
Arguing about age
Debating about age.
Surrounded by a pocket of wild.
Bark stripped from trees.
Leafs and underbrush.
The soil is old, but young on top.
Reaching for the stars like I do.
The wind blows through the trees as they whisper into the air.
Just outside this bubble is a civilization of ridiculousness
The wind has found me in the centre,
The children creak.
I breathe among them.
I think I can like here.
It’s the right kind of quiet.
It’s alive.
-
I lie pressed against the stone.
There’s nothing to hold on to.
The clear white surface, smooth against my palms, I lie
But I like him.
I whisper but it’s not enough.
It’s not strong enough I scream it to the heavens so the letters stand up strong but the word has no weight, not like the stone.
A word with out weight that the magnitude causes the point and the line to swirl in on themselves into a never ending cycle, one.
That causes the line and the vector to fall to its side and only what can be seen from the horizon, the sky.
But I love him.
I say, I scream
But I love him.
The tires screech, I stop
Pulled to reality what am I doing?
Seeing these nightmares and dreams in waking hours alike.
Trying to keep everything alight.
What am I doing?
But lying one the stone I feel it against my cheek
But I love him.
Lost in waves of complete insanity
The puppet that was pulled on a string the videos played and horror.
I want to know why. Why I had to play mirror.
Why the story that was so clearly written before I did it
Ended in a joke of the first. From the first to the first.
A capsule of impossible horrible coincidences.
From then the chaos.
But I love him.
Even if the memories keep haunting I have to keep them safe, clean.
Like the stone, clear.
Even if they haunt me they’re my
Even if they tear me apart they’re my
They’re mine.
But I can’t move it I merely stay still watching.
I needed to see him so I could understand what happened. How it could happen. Why.
I wish I could look at him and lie
Smile and say
It didn’t happen
I love you.
But I can’t.
I love you.
I’m sorry.
Never knowing why in this endless ending that began with an awful truth I had to live through that haunts me every day.
In the night it was sweeter.
-
A far off conversation between four
One in the centre like a protective ring
Triangle
This doesn’t matter how you draw it they are connected.
From here it could be the pyramid, it is the point.
They sparkle in the distance
They shine in the dark.
I wonder what the aim is, the patterns in the black.
Ancient storytelling
Pencilless art.
Can you write a symphony in the sky
See the notes the planets aligned
The Scorpion their third.
How many songs
Are in the patterns of the stars
Could they be written in the sky
Without a sound or a word.
Pauses in the space between
Or merely the screen.
Are there letters written and dreams told?
How many invisible lines does the sky hold
And why does it transfer to rock?
Following the stone of the sunset,
The lines of the three remaining.
Love ran away.
Told twice that it’s time to sleep.
It listens for no reason.
I wonder what it hears.
Elucidating Questions 