Caustic Dreams


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When the illumined are illumed

in the shadows of darkness,

Twisted thoughts masking initial intent,

writhing, stark remains of regurgitated words

pound relentlessly in falling heart,

sharp pain spreading like fingers

across sordid language,

tossing and turning in hoping, just hoping,

hoping eating the edges of fantasy,

crossing caustic fields of a western stake out,

guns drawn shaking in gut, in mind, in doubt,

deathly bullets of love

never seemed so tragic

as forever not true,

…Not then

…not now

…not ever

Sending me reeling,

keening into the night

of your reality.

The Rock


 

It’s been a while since I’ve been there,

a patch of light to clear the mind,

a breath of air,

cold slab

stone to sit on,

hooded jackets bulging

with apples,

and emptiness.

Silence is the turning of the leaves,

bootstraps caked with mud and dung

and thin ice in the shadows of barren trees,

oak and sarsaparilla,

waiting for that stillness to begin,

quieting the beating wings

inside me.

That small place,

those dark blue skies

illuminate my need to be alive,

away from noise and thought,

a solitary walk,

alone,

ingesting my own silhouette,

to know, to bear, to feel, to welcome

nothing,

once again.

Poetry

Copy Rights

© Karen K.L.Espaniola and hinarising.com. 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Karen K.L. Espaniola and hinarising.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.