Day 21 ~ Sara ~ Darkness in Light

‘Hold my hand’
Its such a simple thing to say
And I loved to hear her say it

And now in this silent place
The Sky is all I see
And the hiss whisper of sand dancing
All I hear

‘Hold my hand’
Its such a simple thing to say
And I loved to hear her say it

I loved the way she had this sexy hiss whisper
When she said
Kisssssssss me
And kissssssssssssssing . . .
Honestly when she said September . . .
It was a prayer

‘Hold my hand’
Its such a simple thing to say
And I loved to hear her say it

The Sun of this place has a bronze tang
Not unlike the shades of her arms . . . her legs
Tanned by summer
And she didn’t like to let me see her eyes
Cobalt blue . . . with twin points of light

‘Hold my hand’
Its such a simple thing to say
And I loved to hear her say it
And I want to die here
So I will no longer hear her say it in my mind

Day 17 – Personal Mythologies ~ Darkness in Light

i am slowly becoming my own Parthenon
angels and demons join in my aspect

then let us dance
while there is air in the sky

speak volumes to me
with your eyes
that i might know sustenance when you pass

let us blend our shadows
and our songs
as we forget civilization
and stroll this desert place

let us bend the sky
with the peals of our laughter
let us lift the oceans
to reveal all the treasure that is ours
let us become the eternal Now
and speak no further of grey tomorrows

Day 11 – Poetry ~ Darkness in Light

If you could have asked
Is it raining
in some future place?
Or will I suffer
the slings and arrows . . .?
And got your answer

If you could lift your hands
Against the Sea
Turning back the tide
turning back time. . .?

If you could
Spin the sky backward
rearranging the clouds
Without a second thought. . .?

If you knew a guy
Who could remove this tattoo
Wipe away this memory
Would you?

Day 18 ~ Lucent, My Own Personal Demon

kind numb now
its been . . . weeks?

isn’t it funny how things just . . . fall away
just . . . fall

dreams and reality converge
when you cook your brain

better than drugs
but i feel so . . . so bad

walk
put one foot in front of the other
lift drop

a shadow detaches itself
come to stare me in the face

rescue?

this demon says
‘you’re a scurvy clot . . .’
nope
that is not the sound of rescue

he says
‘what are you doing out in this heat?’
‘i’m on a journey . . . a quest of sorts’
(all of the sudden i feel so lower case. . . )

he says
‘what the bloddy hell?’
i’ figured
it worked for the French Foreign Legion . . .
i want to forget . . .’

‘how come you aren’t dead?’
‘there is a microfine mesh on my skin
a type of johnsonian junction strand thingy
as long as electrical current runs through it
it cools my skin . . .
the technology was prototyped on beer coolers’

‘but at night it gets bloddy frigid out here’
‘the current reverses
and it heats’

‘but your skin . . .’
‘SPF 437’

‘water?’
‘water condenses from my breath
and my sweat on the mesh
and some from the air
and some in my gear’

i say
‘i carry some food
the rest falls from the sky
at Manna Stations along the way’
he says
‘neat’

i say
‘what is your name demon?’
‘me . . .?
i’m Lucent’

‘not Lucifer?’
‘oh heavens no
i’m only a minor demon’

‘why not Lucifer?’
‘You hardly rate Him old son
seeing how you are nobody important
nope
just me . . .’

walk
put one foot in front of the other
lift drop

he says
‘so if that battery thing . . . breaks?’
‘in that event . . . i’m everso screwed’

Day 13 ~ Rust ~ Voyages of a Ship Named Heart

The metamorph awakes
and the entire ship has been rendered transparent

She has learned the trick
of navigating the chambers and corridors of the Heart
by touch

Resonating in the hallways . . .
The sound of one violin (maybe a viola)
A bow scraping . . .
A knife cutting heart strings . . .
slowly
It’s the loneliest sound
in the ‘Verse

She finds the pilot in the center of the Ship
reclining in mid-air
(or so it appears)
Without speaking she turns to see
the World over which they are float

It is a place peopled by barren trees the color of rust
the color of old blood
forking up from the pulped-dank soil like frozen lightning bolts
And the irregularly shaped clumps of pewter cloud
are streaming through the tree fingers
like a rivers of mist

She notices convolutions in the mist
Fantasy Creatures the form and then disperse
All to the macabre strains
of a tormented viola

She says . . .
‘I wonder what the First Ones thought . . .
This is it
isn’t it?’
He remains silent
‘This is where we all came from
this is Heaven . . . isn’t it?
I can see why they left . . .’

She moves beside him
and kinda leans into him
a playful gesture
He says
“You haven’t told me your name”
She says
‘I’m saving it for a surprise’
He says
“Surprise me . . .”
She says
‘No’

She watches as the Beasts of Heaven
Form
change
dis-evolve
dissolve . . .
There is no pattern

The Ship Chimes lunch
the Pilot remains still
the viola plays . . .

Day 12 ~ Names ~ Voyages of a Ship Named Heart

With steely determination
She climbs into the part of the ship
That no one speaks of

A slight tingling sensation prickles
all over her body
This part of the ship is invisible and she
Must grope toward this unknown goal

Her finger-tips brush against a barrier
Pushing through the barrier
She moves into a room that a dusty
rich and aged smell
The room was silent
save a disquieting sub-sonic hum

In the center stands a massive marble table
The rest of the room contains only a reading chair
a massive bookcase
hunting tapestries
and a few other odd pieces

As her eyes adapt
She makes out four semi-sentient watchers
Stationed at strategic points around the seven-sided table
Their inhumanly intense regard focused on the center
Where a woman’s pearl-handled
Silver mirror floats within a pale violet amethyst crystal

Air circulating through the room
Makes the watchers’ gossamer hair ripple
Like sea weed dancing as the waves pass
Sensing the watcher’s attention is only for the thing inside the crystal
She ventures into the room

She sees the mirror holds the likeness
of a rather plain looking woman beside a lake
As the crystal and mirror revolve
The woman scoops a handful of water
and offers it to someone off to the right

She feels somehow strangely compelled
to feel sorrow for the woman

The Pilot is beside her
He says
“Her name is . . .”
And his voice breaks
She can’t hear the name

Day 07 ~ Forgetting~ Darkness in Light

I keep forgetting this diary
Truth be told I seem to be forgetting. . .

I eat when I’m hungry
Sleep when the suns set
I hurt both inside
and out

Forgetting. . .
That’s why we do things like this

Yeah
there was a reason. . .
What was her name?