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Literature Text
We live in a world of black glass
and lonely thunder,
but this is
an upwards spiral.
The space left behind
the moon near 1 am--
unframed and distorted--
is less than lost,
a terminal darkness.
In sparse clouds,
the white boat stays horizontal.
and lonely thunder,
but this is
an upwards spiral.
The space left behind
the moon near 1 am--
unframed and distorted--
is less than lost,
a terminal darkness.
In sparse clouds,
the white boat stays horizontal.
Literature
Nocturne
At afterglow I walk into
cafes with momentarily golden glass
Tonight I scratch out a moon
Literature
Insomniac Indisposition
Insomniac Indisposition
I swear that I have iron in my veins
and that bed is a fucking magnet.
I lie in places where nights are sleepless
and the only thing that keeps me company
are the white lights that play in the dark.
My mind playing tenement
for phantoms that sing songs along
and around my fragmented neurosis.
I’m a dying insomniac
and the only thing I hold close
are my sweat-smothered covers,
sheets and bedspreads
keep the dead heads from rising
into the light that first took them.
My bedroom is the cage
keeping me from Summer and Spring.
Holding only Winter in its walled palms
I never really ever seem to meet Fall.
But
Literature
this is what i bleed
sun, moon, orbiting each other into infinity:
this is not what i bleed.
i bleed a pale white coin
to flip-flip,
sweet kisses on breathing,
beating, warm
marble.
this is not the usual spectrum.
this is not morning, day, night,
marriage, kids,
this is undertable handhelds,
underduvet genesis,
symmetry.
flowers bursting in a sea of anther,
ambrosia gushing in tears of joy
under blessed light.
stamen and stamen. entwined bloom.
this is what i bleed.
osmosis.
a fallout of linked fingers,
a flooding held in cupped
hands as bright as any other.
sun and sun again. moon
and moon again. circled
synchronous
Suggested Collections
This is a contest prize for AyeAye12, who requested I write a first line poem using the first lines of his and others' work from around dA.
I stole the lines (with a little creative licensing to make them make sense) you see here from these amazing pieces:
Title comes from Night's Rain
Hunting dragons
Poppies
This Is A Poem, ii
The Universe in Your Mind
Untitled
00:58 - 01:10
In Death, I Would Say
Lostless
Iniquities
Universe pronoun (night outside same window)
Bird Feather Falls Peculiarly, July 2014 (8th)
Want your very own first line poem? Note me!
August 25th, 2014
© 2014 - 2024 betwixtthepages
Comments15
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Ahh, this is wonderful! 
Thank you so much.
Thank you so much.