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Literature Text
world leadings without my permission,
power from nowhere, floating
and scattering. touch each one -
miles terrorized in writing tell you
nobody has.
light happens in stumbling, remembers,
with irony, night again.
a woman reached for my glasses -
she had waited.
I felt made again.
power from nowhere, floating
and scattering. touch each one -
miles terrorized in writing tell you
nobody has.
light happens in stumbling, remembers,
with irony, night again.
a woman reached for my glasses -
she had waited.
I felt made again.
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Literature
Age
My hands have never been as heavy as they are now. Looking at my fingers, withered by time and hardships, I recall their former lightness as I bent timber into pieces of art—so agile and precise. As I sit here in front of the workbench I made decades ago, the same workbench in front of which I used to spend night after night pouring every ounce of my being, of my soul even, I am reminded of how much has changed. As I sit here and gently run my calloused, numb hand across the same old wood, which although has no ears to hear me, I still feel the need to apologise to—for my inability. It hurt. It hurt to look at my countless tools, knowing I’ll NEVER use them again, pains me more than my diminishing health ever could. Ever since I become like this, all I do is come here in my workshop and just sit. It was difficult to come here today. I slipped and fell down the steps to the basement. I've fallen down before, but today was more painful than ever. Getting up was hard, and my knees still
Literature
Between Light and Dark
Suffering in the rain, while dancing under the stars. I know light will break through; that light will cast a shadow, but shadows give shade on a hot summer day, so I'll stand in that light and let the shadows fall. Love in the light and love in the dark, knowing both will come and go. The little stars twinkling in the sky, reminding me how alone we are in this cold, vast ocean makes love harder in darkness and light, knowing forever isn't coming and now is all we have—now is everything we have, and in the presence of now, I don't feel so alone. Rain pours and stars shine, as Now wraps a scarf around my neck, and in the midst of suffering, we dance on together.
Literature
Jewels
we are jewels in the crown of midnight, dark obsidian tears, made of moonlight and blood rippling on sorrows’ surface, disturbing the night’s slumber we are torn skin of the faint young sun, black fires burning on the forgotten hills, children of the opalescent haze and moondust touching the mortality with madness; ruling over abandoned circles and shadowed mazes we are the last kiss from the goddess, blinding the nature with our brilliance, coating its heart with a stellar honey
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Incredible soft landing. 