Wednesday, February 29, 2012

nocturmnia






























untitled by buradori



day, i have nothing to add to you.

here we are though. picking our teeth with stars and waiting it out.

my hands float,

weightless in the dark.


eventually the sound and the blue will creep back in,
we'll pick up where we left off

and stumble along.

night: large as an iceberg,
veined in shadow and
black's incessant typography

you always stop to chat as you pass me;
you're patient as geology,

what choice do i have
but to watch your petals
open, yawn and fall

eye-lid kisses
unheld hands
dreams i missed out on having

for having sat with you
and chewed the fat off our 4pm coffee
and re-lived the lunchroom chatter,

this time with the lights off.

a brutal punch at the intersection of night and summer,


when tomorrow lands bare-legged and hungry
it'll hurt from toe-nail to nose-hair.

under the bed they'll find me clutching
the frontier of shadow as my blanket,
and mumbling prayers to daisies

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Beautiful

Benjamin Miller said...

This was gorgeous. Do you write off of one image that organically becomes another or is there a statement too shy to be anything but (as your blog name would suggest) submerged?

a penny for the old guy said...

many thanks guys.

honestly, i don't know. it's not quite as linear as that. it's like walking into a noisy room. all the sounds are already there muddled together. i have to describe them one at a time because that's how language is, but, really what i'm trying to describe has nothing to do with the images... it's none of them and all of them and using imagery is the only way i know how to approximate it.

(which sounds to me a bit like the second option - a shy statement... which (characteristically) i see as a "sunken cathedral". (to borrow Debussy's phrase)

dylan said...

i've read you for years, now.

every time i try to tell you how you feed my heart, how so many times you've made me cry & kept me going (and isn't it strange how despite all the noise we make about happiness, it's tears that make my life feel full?), my words fall flat.

thanks, q.