Or perhaps oblivion – Is that the case?
My hollowed bottle, your wilted trace
and Summer begins, marked by the embers
Of the Sunday sun, eaten by December’s
Teeth – who licks the sky, in a purple parade
An ephemeral beauty, a temporary shade
The clouds drip down, June’s ashes fly away
I vacate my mind, I choose not to stay
And my remedial drink, slams shut the door
To the chance of those memories, washing ashore
Ah! This terrestrial body is beginning to concede
I sit on our mountain, I leak, I bleed
And I wonder
Do you think of that night? From way back, from before?
Our rain soaked hair – car crash splendour
I lied for you, I deceived the man
I’d do it once more, and time (and time) again
Am I the fool? Was it you? Was it me?
Your wrought iron heart, guarded too carefully
And so I accept what I cannot save,
What I cannot hold, what I cannot brave
And yet
When the stars explode into the vacuous chasm
The moon stolen; the sun vanished
When chaos ensues and fires rage
Eating our homes, the trees, these plains
When
Fire and ice collide in hell
And us, shades of nothing in asphodel
Dante’s inferno / Hades flame
It’s you I’ll turn to, it’s you I’ll blame
Because that’s what this is,
That’s what it’s been
Pandemonium
Cacophony
The age of eighteen
I’d welcome the apocalypse over this lack
I’d welcome Ragnarök – you’d might come back
If doomsday descends, perhaps you’d scan
For my eyes in the crowds, my heart in your hands
I would rather oblivion, because missing you is
the end of the world, the end of what is.
Great poem! I enjoyed reading this 🙂
Love that second sanza. ‘Marked’, ‘eaten and ‘licks’ links some powerful, seasonal imagery with some beautifully chosen words.
This is a very intense poem, isn’t it? With really strong imagery that elevates and and disturbs you at the same time. It has an apocalyptic feel about it but remains true to the personal experience of the narrator. I would like to read more from this writer.