I can’t stop this running away or this world ending in ten days Can’t stop this love thrust upon me Or this falling away of all things That cannot but be temporary And so I resort to stealing To fill up this dream
Nothing survives this black void, not even The tears of another promised to fall eternally Except formless madness and selfish grief that to the depthless abyss gave birth, yet This is the suffering promised to me
Standing on the beach, My feet where the sands touch the sea; So standing, the tears keep falling, Can’ t stop, the wind sweeping across The firth to bend the long grass; So standing, half a century has passed It seems, even to stand on the beach, There was a price to pay, a price For everything
The giants wade slowly to shore, Tall as hurricanes, silent as fish. Behind them, flat and empty Lies the dust-covered sea, Thin and cold as a page Sprinkled with frozen ink And buried in early spring.
The corner opposite mummy’s bed Is darker than the ceiling of the underground. There I sit, hands clasping around knees Tightly, for hours and hours, staring At the figures passing by the doorless entrance, None of them stopping. The floor is the palm of a great hand; Cool and steady, it holds me silently. The shadows are a blanket of soft endless layers. I am safe here. I am safe Until I remember mummy lying In the other corner, eyes closed, lips open. Dim ghostly light creeps over mummy’s Face, brushes over the pale blankets That cover mummy’s feet. But I must be safe here, I am safe in my dark corner.
Can a fish drown on dry land? Apparently The beginning can be as harrowing as the end. The soul flounders about in panic to grasp at straws From thin air, as the body lies flat on its back.
I can’t stop this running away or this world ending in ten days Can’t stop this love thrust upon me Or this falling away of all things That cannot but be temporary And so I resort to stealing To fill up this dream
Nothing survives this black void, not even The tears of another promised to fall eternally Except formless madness and selfish grief that to the depthless abyss gave birth, yet This is the suffering promised to me
Standing on the beach, My feet where the sands touch the sea; So standing, the tears keep falling, Can’ t stop, the wind sweeping across The firth to bend the long grass; So standing, half a century has passed It seems, even to stand on the beach, There was a price to pay, a price For everything
The giants wade slowly to shore, Tall as hurricanes, silent as fish. Behind them, flat and empty Lies the dust-covered sea, Thin and cold as a page Sprinkled with frozen ink And buried in early spring.
The corner opposite mummy’s bed Is darker than the ceiling of the underground. There I sit, hands clasping around knees Tightly, for hours and hours, staring At the figures passing by the doorless entrance, None of them stopping. The floor is the palm of a great hand; Cool and steady, it holds me silently. The shadows are a blanket of soft endless layers. I am safe here. I am safe Until I remember mummy lying In the other corner, eyes closed, lips open. Dim ghostly light creeps over mummy’s Face, brushes over the pale blankets That cover mummy’s feet. But I must be safe here, I am safe in my dark corner.
Can a fish drown on dry land? Apparently The beginning can be as harrowing as the end. The soul flounders about in panic to grasp at straws From thin air, as the body lies flat on its back.
Tonight I remembered –
A thought flashed across my mind –
That years ago, my little cousin and I
Made up stories together
And acted them out ourselves.
She couldn’t abide the stories
To have sad endings.
How she rejected the idea of it,
How she insisted on their happiness.
And night after night I remembered
That I thought happiness was what I had,
That I shut my eyes in exchange
For a life that was hushed and tamed
Until it wasn’t.
Happiness.
If you have it, it’d be proof that
You’re good at this business of being alive,
That you really deserve to live –
Is that it?
Happiness.
Nine small lette
He told me to forgive and forget,
To rise above it, and I said,
“Do you think those that are
Scarred and maimed and tainted
Can ever walk on wide shiny streets
In bright daylight again? –
They have fallen down into darkness and
Cannot defy gravity and transcend,
They must go by the sewers
And crawl on all fours, feel the blackness
Closing in, inhale the stench,
Rub their hands and faces in
The slimy filth, but keep stumbling forward
And forward, until some day they may
Emerge into a beautiful bleak world again
Where no idyllic lanes or grand boulevards
Are ever in sight, and all is a pathless wilderness.”
Thanks for joining BreaktThroughArt! We're very happy to have someone as talented as you be part of the team. Thank you again for joining and we sincerely hope you enjoy being part of BreakThroughArt!