They stumble through sludge,
shivering still,
from the cold up their sleeves.
Bundled in layers of comfort
that don’t quite protect.
Restricting, restraining.
The beast bounds ahead.
The two walk in silence, almost.
She breaks it with chatter, she beams.
She gazes at sky, gasps at streams.
The trees move the spaces inside her.
She stifles an utterance hiding in there.
Reaches her hands out instead.
Timid, she touches him,
kisses him, nudges him,
nestles and nuzzles,
as long as she dares.
Then falls back behind him,
or walks alongside him,
holding her heart in her throat.
The light fades above them.
The dark is a thief.
She pockets a pinecone.
She strokes every leaf.
Her camera can’t capture the feeling of forest,
the aura of air,
the vibrations beneath.
They drive back through postcards
and paintings in oil.
The sun sinks in pink,
turning every tree red.
Or at least in her head.
He turns up the music,
smiles, touches her leg.
The heater blows warmth in her face,
all around her. It rises inside her.
She stifles an utterance hiding in there.
5 comments:
This is the strongest of your poems for a while me reckons well done it's gorgeous.
Love this section the most:
The light fades above them.
The dark is a thief.
She pockets a pinecone.
She strokes every leaf.
Her camera can’t capture the feeling of forest,
the aura of air,
the vibrations beneath.
They drive back through postcards
and paintings in oil.
The sun sinks in pink,
turning every tree red.
Or at least in her head.
The light fades above them the dark is a thief, this is really powerful especially for you because all of your writing seems to have an inner craving for darkness, but here that knowledge of a day drawing to a close really tugs at the heart strings.
They drive back through postcards
and paintings in oil.
OMG I so wish I'd written that line - I reckon I did it sounds like somethin i might come up with - you mustve stolen it whilst i wasnt lookin (get off my muse bitch!!!lol). It's so good the words the rhythm it feels like the words belong together.
turning every tree red.
Or at least in her head.
How cool is that? I know you're always really negative about your poetry but you've got to know that this is a great lil couplet it's so lovely.
The dark is a thief.
She pockets a pinecone.
She strokes every leaf.
That is the work of genius right there. The way you follow the dark is thief with the speaker stealing a pinecone is something I probably wouldve struggled over for weeks but you just slide it on out like it's the simplest thing.
Sorry for all the pasting but I'm quite taken with this one in case you couldn't tell.
The trees move the spaces inside her
That is sooooooooooo great, the trees stirring at that inner emptiness tis like the way I feel when I think about scotch eggs or guiness or both lol.
Kudos (I believe is the term those crazy youngsters are using nowasdayses) Kudos Dani and double Kudos in fact Thrice the Kudos this is absolutely gorgeous and considering you were supposed to struggling it's an impressive length too.
Congratulations my nutty little buddy you are a poetic treasure in a big steaming pile of technological cyber poop. lol
:) love it x
She stifles an utterance hiding in there
beautiful, really really beautiful.
So pretty it just rolls off the tongue and plays in my mind all happily.
I love this poem.
It's all so lovely and straightforward just going for a walk in the wood but then you always add those layers of mystery.
The beast bounds ahead
spaces inside her
Its incredible well done you have a magical mind
Hi - it took me ages to work out how these were collabs. Its that shared line right? Unless I'm being particularly dense because they are completely different poems. They both look and read like they mustve taken ages though.
Dont want to say which ones my favourite because they're both very different and i really do love both.
I think both are a little stronger than the clocks collaboration ones but they were amazing too. You guys do seem to feed off eachothers poetic energy.
They drive back through postcards
and paintings in oil.
This is my favourite line although it was not easy to choose.
You really do have an oustanding ability to present an image and keep it a reader's mind.
Well dunn dreamweaver
Hi hi hi hi.
This is the gnats baps!!!
Timid, she touches him,
kisses him, nudges him,
nestles and nuzzles,
as long as she dares.
Then falls back behind him,
or walks alongside him,
holding her heart in her throat.
This bit really got to me, I hate that feeling but know it so well where yo just wanna be with them and close to them but think yheyll say yor just too clingy? But of course you put these age old feelings into timeless elegance you wordy birdy
I adore it and now I adore you for writing it and being you.
You may have a tortured little poetical inner self but tough we like it if it keeps this stuff coming.
You are a genuine geniarse xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Well I must say I agree with all of the above comments. Another worthy addition to your site.
I'm especially impressed by the following stanza:
The beast bounds ahead.
The two walk in silence, almost.
She breaks it with chatter, she beams.
She gazes at sky, gasps at streams.
The trees move the spaces inside her.
She stifles an utterance hiding in there.
Reaches her hands out instead.
The use of rhyme and half-rhyme is incredibly complex, ahead, breaks, beams, streams, trees, her/there/instead those that do not full rhyme have the same written structure. It helps the rhythm of this part gallop along and gives a real sense of inner movement, mirroring the feelings of the speaker and the movement inside her.
Quite lovely, well done.
I assume that this is starlight to casual moths as you've both written collaboration with the other. I am a big lover of his work and he encouraged me to join your blog via facebook. It's really wonderful to see two such talented young writers supporting eachother creatively.
Keep up the good work
Post a Comment