The Empty Room

There’s an empty room on that floor.

It’s been, oh, probably decades

since anyone has set foot

through that door,

and walked on the hardwood

along the wide window

where the sun penetrates deep between

the fibres of the curtains, gently blowing

in the cool summer breeze.

 

Decades since anyone sat in the soft leather chair

and put their feet up,

slept away the afternoon

with a newspaper draped delicately on their lap.

It’s been decades, I’d say,

since anyone heard the pitter-patter of the mice

running along the beams overhead,

and the barn owl resting on the peak of the roof,

surveying the landscape in the moonlight.

 

 

Decades passed,

and still it sits,

that old now empty room,

waiting for someone

to smell the musty air,

pull back the curtains,

watch the world outside the window run away

as it cycles through each day.

 

Yes, decades, I’d say.

And yet it still waits.

 

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Pale Blue Dot

The sky streaked blood red

with dark, broad lines of ash

painted by the fingers of who came before us;

And underneath, the people sat quietly

watching the great clock turn in the heavens

and the day count down its seconds,

until finally the darkness overtook the plains below.

 

As midnight passed, the hoots of owls, and

the chirps of crickets

surmounted by deafening silence in between each beat.

I looked up to Polaris

and then I felt the cold air wrap around me

and whisk me away

to a world overpowered with hues of gold and grey,

with structures higher than the stars themselves.

And soon the people too looked up to the guiding star,

and they, too, were swept away to the this marvelous new world.

Together we stared into the void.

Millions of tiny silver lights pierced the endless curtain above us

as we looked on through eternity

until the light faded.

 

And there we sat,

knowing in our hearts

that though it was not written in stone,

that though the water washed away our ink,

that though what we built would crumble in the sands of time,

though as millennia pass,

and as the great clock pushes forth relentlessly,

until all memory of us fades like those stars in the void,

and when aeons have gone by,

those who take our place will not know,

that we had been here.

If I Could Find You

If I could find you

If I could fail you

If  I could follow you deep into the darkest caverns of the world

And light the way with only the glow of your heart beating in my hand

If I could see what you had seen when you found me

Crawling through the dust

And eating the weeds that I plucked from beneath me

The weeds cultivated in agony and borne on my frail and wizened breath

And if I could gaze deeply into the heart of the world

And follow you,

And if I could look into my own soul and feel the tempo of yours as I searched for you

And if I could fail you

And still light the way with only the glow of your beating heart

As I carried it through the deepest catacombs

Then could you find me again?

On a Frozen Pond

I think, one day, I found it

buried in the ice;

where the rotted fallen trees encircled the lone pool of sunlight

that bent emphatically across the mountaintops

and poured itself into the frozen pond,

waiting till spring to thaw.

There’s something here,

a tick on my shoulder whispered in my ear

and then it bit me there;

The blood dripped down,

boiled the ice on impact.

I can see it still when I close my eyes:

The harsh redness beaming in bold defiance of the winter air

And the allotted warmth of sunlight designated for the particular season.

The fiery creature burrowed itself deep into a place

Where my hands could not reach to scratch

And squealed its deafening echo, resonated unending through my skull

as a broken phonograph record,

skipping over and over

Countdown to Infinity

I tell her she reminds me of snow covered trees

On a cool winter morning.

Or something romantic like that.

She smiles and turns around

Her red jacket spins effortlessly in the air

while lightly hugging her hips.

We count down to the rhythm of memories

of the year soon past, and

TEN her eyes glitter in the starlight

NINE My arms wrapped around her waist

EIGHT Her soft lips tingling against mine

SEVEN My fingers tracing lines and trails through her long brown hair

SIX Our clothes melt away into puddles at our ankles; her thighs resting on and then soon grinding against my lap

FIVE My hands grasping to unclip her bra

FOUR Her delicate face shattering with an ecstasy that we share as I enter her

THREE The rough motion of my body wrestling with hers, her breasts rise and fall like waves in high tide

TWO Her soft shallow breath now gaining ferocity, building with notes of love, hate and

the combination of all 525,600 moments, the conjoined pleasures, pains,

all collide as the clock now is about to reset in a broken dance of ‘I wanted’ and ‘she wanted’.

ONE We finish.

We’re lying together, breathless, lovesick

While thoughts of all that we’ve done crash into the shore.

The gaze of her hateful eyes meets mine, one by one the stars fade away, and we sit deadlocked;

Tasked with the torturous feat of facing one another again.

ZERO This isn’t what we wanted.