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Posts Tagged ‘poetry’

Credit: ESA/NASA, ESO and Danny LaCrue

 

The stars swelled and bloated as if they were going to burst and take with them the entirety of the universe that surrounded them, a moment of luminous destruction to eat every rock and atom and bring it all back to the black that the stars had once liberated themselves from.  A horizon of several streams of light was left behind by the scattering stars. A gentle melancholy was quickly followed by a new hope of things left behind. The sinewy lights wove around each other creating a blanket of light with little bits of darkness spilling through. As she looked up at the canopy, she said, “This is life.” Blake had no idea what she meant by that, but it didn’t seem to matter. They still had a long way to go, it wouldn’t be long before he caught up them.

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It was a pleasure to burn

That old book said

before its pages curled a black coal curl

brittle, and scattered with embers dancing like fireflies in an otherwise empty world

It speaks now more than it ever did

It was a pleasure to burn

 

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Minor thirds bring the head to sway, while a sixth swells the throat. Mere measurements, as the dying guitarist understands. Time is something that he will not know for long, and he relishes in his tones. A pulse driven by low resonance that pushes at the gut every time it’s plucked. And he dances with them. In spite of his willowed legs and arms, he still dances with those dancing notes. The sway of a knobby hip and a knotted shoulder. A dance of a dead thing that hasn’t left its time behind to finally get some rest. Still that dying thing plays. And he smiles.

 

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…shadow on shallow…

She felt the push and pull of the currents against her.

Weightless, her body shifted with the pull from the undertow. Serene, she flowed with its movement, twisting and turning. The currents caressed her young flesh, its sensual touch cradling every part. Not just her flesh, it went deeper. Inside of her, where nature could never penetrate, she felt a pulse in perfect harmony with the one that moved in her chest. As it pushed against her, her pulse pulled, and as her pulse pushed back, those currents lifted. She longed for nothing. She felt nothing. She knew nothing of…

…death…

Floating, senseless with nothing of suffering, some things still lingered, questions of things past, she struggled to find…

…life…

Was there life before this. Doesn’t really matter anyway. She had forgotten. There was something that she almost remembered, but she lost it again. She struggled for any thought, hazed and darkened, numbed and neglected. As quick as something came to her, it left. The only thing she could remember was that she yearned for whatever memory it was. She knew that she needed pain. She needed scars and the memory it would bring. The currents had carried her too far, and now she needed to try and find the lost pain that they had kept from her. Something else was kept from her, another sensation that had been long forgotten. Floating with those currents, she almost lost her thoughts again. Pleasure, she needed pain and pleasure. The currents had kept her from them both, suspended in their sway, pulsing with the current. They never left her.

She moved with them. As the currents moved, she ran her hand slowly across her body, feeling her firm flesh. As her palm grazed the peaks of her breasts, her blood warmed, and her muscles tensed slightly. The numb comfort of the pulsing currents held in contrast with the warmth of new blood moving through her flesh. Her fingers rose to her lips, caressing from one corner to the other. Her lips felt the slight heat from the tips. They gently parted, leaving way for one of her fingers to drop into the warmth of her mouth. Touching her tongue, she rolled it from side to side. The warmth swelled, spreading into her arms. She knew the currents felt it too and tried to keep their hold on her, trying to keep her numb. Pushing again against her body, the currents rolled her over.

She didn’t fight against them. She let them move her. Once again, the thoughts of her sensual touch were leaving her, and she struggled to bring them back. She kissed her fingertips, and, slowly, pulled them from her mouth and moved them down to her breasts. The heat from her fingertips had lost its subtlety and almost burned when touched her breasts. She moved the heat around her soft peaks, letting the warmth flow into her. She moved her hand farther down past her belly where she felt her greatest warmth.

Her other hand moved to her breasts, feeling more heat than had come with the former touch. The heat from her breasts moved down and met the heat that rose from between her thighs. Once they met, they flowed around each other and danced in her belly, flowing upward and outward, spreading through her entire body. She still moved with the current as she rolled over, head over foot and shoulder over shoulder, floating in the dark current and pulsing with it.

The hand between her thighs moved with the rhythm of the current, rubbing with its flowing movements. She caressed herself, breasts and belly, with one hand while she pushed the other harder and deeper inside. She pushed so hard that a sharp pain shook her from inside. She fell into herself as the pain shook her and took hold. More heat came with it. Her fingers warmed in her soft hot flesh that was swelling with blood. She threw her head back as the waves of heat moved up her body. She clutched tightly to her breast with one hand while the other moved deeper, feeling the pulse pushing strongly from inside. Still keeping with what was around her, she moved her hand in and out in a rhythm between the pulses of the currents. Somewhere between force and pulse, the heat came on strong again. Her fingers ground hard against the soft flesh inside of her, tearing it. Blood flowed from her and surrounded her with the warmth of life. It floated with her, bouncing from her skin and trying to return to the common body it once knew. As she moved, heat and pain flowed into each other in complement. She bit her lip until it bled, joining the rest of the blood in a dance of memory, sharing what was known and what was left behind. She pulled her legs together, still keeping the rhythm with her hand. In and out, soft flesh pulsated harder around her fingers. She pushed farther and harder, deeper and faster. She knew it was coming. It was almost there.

The heat reached its threshold and held her every. Push, feel the heat. Touch the warmth. Allow yourself to be engulfed by it, the pain, the catalyst, the heat, the means. It grew as her body turned and toppled out of control. The build was too much, and she couldn’t stop it.

Her hand clenched tightly around her breast as her fingers inside went rigid. Her legs pressed tightly against each other as her body erupted in a war of heat and power. She threw her head back and opened her green eyes. The…

…memory…

…returned to her in a sudden burst of thought, a pulse strong enough to allow the rivers of thought to flow through. With the pulse, the fear for her brother came to her.

She saw him. She saw him falling away from her, falling into the darkest pits of the earth, to be left there until the earth turn to stone.

She looked on his face as he fell away from her into the depths, his eyes glowing green.

His mouth moved as if to speak, but she couldn’t hear anything, nothing at all.

Her hand reached out but touched nothing, finding nothing kind. His body was disappearing into dark, and being consumed by it. His eyes were crying, crying for her. Those eyes that were a reflection of hers battled the same forces that sought to swallow all.

He fell too fast, too far

She pushed to him

To save him

To save her

He pushed to her

She fell too fast, too far

Wretched and scarred, he saw the sway of the water carry her deeper and deeper into oblivion. He could not stop her from falling away from him, her body going dark and deep as he reached for her, her flowing hair swimming around her lovely pale face, moving in long waves, brushing her gentle cheek.

Her mouth moved as if to speak, but he couldn’t hear anything, nothing at all.

Her pale skin faded too and all that was left were her glowing green eyes, and they too were fading. Her eyes faded gently into the dark depths, glowing darker and darker still with every passing moment. No. Not her. Leave her alone. He wanted it to be him instead. He would let his fate be the one of the fall and let hers be left to her. He would take it, one to take for the other. His end would be her deliverance.

…breathe…

The cold sway of the endless dark held him hard, holding him close to stone.

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She moved ahead and kept the watch for her brother and his burden.

They moved toward the setting sun, keeping away from the cities and their broken towers. The burdening man still slept. Even when his body began to heal, shedding his blackened flesh and growing new, he still slept. They kept him as their own, forcing him ground food and water to keep him fed. Ewald wasn’t convinced. He still thought his sister’s decision to save the man was foolish. Other than his weapons, which worked well for hunting if nothing else, the man served no other purpose. He was a burden.

“Why won’t he wake up?” He held the knife in his hand, rolling the tip against his finger. She didn’t answer. She kept her gaze to the west. They had come far without any trial and she seemed to become more and more cautious with the shortening days. “Maybe he won’t wake up.” He broke his skin. She didn’t answer. “You won’t change your mind?” He put his finger to his lips. Still, she didn’t answer. Her words were less and less with her brother as they moved. He kept to his questions, but her answers were brief if they came at all. “Well, we have enough food for now so…” He pulled the cart he had made as it creaked under the burden of the man and their supplies. He had already replaced the wheel of the cart twice because the wood was always too soft. He hoped to get some more distance out of this one before he had to replace it again.

She moved, and he followed. She looked to the man who swayed limply with the movement of the cart. His face was buried beneath his long dark mane, portions of his dark face barely peeking through. He moved from dark and shadow, and an impetus forced him through the black veil. The veil bowed aside in his presence and released him from its hold. He was free of it. The veil flew apart in long shreds as his form flew from it. Even now, he still lied in greatness. Torn from his roots and from his glory, she knew him still to be unequaled.

He was legend

He was man

He was…

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For some reason, Amazon has the kindle version of my book for $1.91. This is a generosity that I would personally never extend, so you should take advantage of it while you still can.

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