Nostalgia
In the dark fields of summer - the heat escapes us
it crawls into the sky in tendrils of smoke - it creeps
Our heat is a suck - the roads hoard it like money
This isn't some theft - the universe gives no fucks
The day collapses - it shatters - it is our job
to find the pieces and to stick them together with gold
To hold this moment in our minds - perfect it
The pressure of our remembering will diamond it
until it is something that cannot ever have existed
An inner-earth ocean full of monsters
The darkness will not stay dark here - it will recede
it will become the light on the surface of a lake - your eye
It will also degenerate with time - it will never be a photograph
like the heat held in pavement - the night will leech it off
Showing posts with label end of summer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label end of summer. Show all posts
02 September 2016
18 August 2016
Poem-A-Day #171 : August
August
Summer has settled into that soft green that is not quite ready to be tired but is definitely at the peak of itself
The idea of troubling the water keeps coming that the water can be troubled to be a force for healing that healing is something that one must be forced to do
Summer is sadder than winter each plant is going going going like it has no recourse and they will never get to their finish before being wiped out by the end of it it's sinister that the light and water of it is just enabling destruction
This is a negative view of abundance and it is probably toxic and related to mood more than truth
Healing is the thing the growing season is not a time of healing it is too active and energy-consuming to be healing you need dormancy to heal
We need to hibernate ourselves here and now take some pill or be beaten about the head
The breeze this morning is moving the trees like curtains about to part and the effect is one of prelude one of soon to change one of this has been and will be again but first it must not be
Every poet is wrong about the seasons is backwards is blinded by the glint of sweat on a lip
Summer has settled into that soft green that is not quite ready to be tired but is definitely at the peak of itself
The idea of troubling the water keeps coming that the water can be troubled to be a force for healing that healing is something that one must be forced to do
Summer is sadder than winter each plant is going going going like it has no recourse and they will never get to their finish before being wiped out by the end of it it's sinister that the light and water of it is just enabling destruction
This is a negative view of abundance and it is probably toxic and related to mood more than truth
Healing is the thing the growing season is not a time of healing it is too active and energy-consuming to be healing you need dormancy to heal
We need to hibernate ourselves here and now take some pill or be beaten about the head
The breeze this morning is moving the trees like curtains about to part and the effect is one of prelude one of soon to change one of this has been and will be again but first it must not be
Every poet is wrong about the seasons is backwards is blinded by the glint of sweat on a lip
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