Ever expanding, cold,
a vast vacuum vividly filling
every corner of the outer edges.
Empty. Ever since that bang erupted
upon first contact. Stars come together,
oh, look at how these two stars shine.
With Hydrogen passed from one star to the other
being so natural, beautiful. But woe, to the planets
who vie for the audience of one. After time
progresses, the audience may be won.
With all of the attention on one star, the planets
may rotate, visiting in shifts, abandoning the other star,
to burn out in solitude.
A Writer’s Wonderland
My eyes survey the dry, dark
streets as the village reveals itself.
Step. By. Step.
Despite the very serene landscape,
the subtle ambiance of this little
taste of Europe is lacking.
To focus, I open my ears and try
to tune the instruments for a specific frequency and wait.
Wait. Listen. Ho!
It has happened! A sigh of relief
reveals a whiff of chilled dust that
has escaped my mouth. The surprise
that has captured my eyes descends
Jacket. Hand. Forehead.
Amazing! Like snow, I feel every
letter caressing me, enveloping the terrain.
I think to grab my bag but hesitate.
I wait. I watch. I feel
the snowfall gets heavier. My view nearly
obtuse. I pull my notebook out of the
bag and let the words fall onto my pages.
The rattle echoes.
With each step I take
I drown in the thump thump
of the machine.
My heart will stop
if the percussion should suddenly shift.
The intense twinkle of blue, red and
other colors bounce from wall to wall.
They are almost in sync with the noise,
combining into a blinding heart attack.
The masses bob up and down, to and fro,
to the banal beat.
The reverberating mix of light and sound
pierce the walls I’ve built. The
swamp grabs me, pulls me, confuses
me. I struggle, finding myself drained.
Cloudy. Dazzled. I can’t
tell one way from another.
My weak legs go back to…instinct..?
Carrying my smoky mind through the crowd,
the awful mix of spray-on chemicals
slowly lets go of my tongue. I sense…something
cold, fresh? No, no, refreshing.
My mouth, it…moistens.
The chill. My flesh. The words!
I soak in the brisk draft.
It washes, better yet, cleanses me!
I have emerged unscathed, out of
the quagmire. Back and
forth, the rattle, merely a hum now, beckons.
I collect and store the freshness into
a cache, then venture back inside. The
low buzz of music, the gentle
flash of lights and the overpopulated floor?
Tolerable. I see some females and wander to them.
“I’m going to dance here, feel free to think I’m dancing with you.”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I forget my keys sometimes.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
It’s very annoying every time
I lock myself out,
I can do nothing but pout.
Pout? No, I do nothing but shout!
I scream from the top of my lungs.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
“Let me in! Let me in, I’ve got rum!”
Bang. Kick. Bang.
I hear soft footsteps creep
towards me. A sudden loud click makes me leap
back on the steep stoop as a face peeps
from within. I step forward and
the gap widens to show a man
as he stands in the dark, silent.
Wandering down the hall, familiar, vibrant
rooms surround me. Yet, I stand
in this mansion like I’m in my own town
but can’t speak the language. Down
the stairs, my breath takes form to reveal
several dark doors apparently sealed
shut. I chug my rum to drown
my fears and kick open the first door
I see. Stumbling. Swerving. I cross the dark
room to find a lone safe, far more
sacred than that silly Ark.
I open it to read the letters and unfinished poems
buried inside. If I had finished, we wouldn’t have disembarked.
Instead, my eyes sting, as I read all by my lonesome.