Thursday, January 7, 2016

Snowed In



In darkness fingers intertwine
In candlelight we wine and dine
I hold my hand out and grab the sky
Just to remind you of the sunset
They told me to watch out
She’s a gamble, she’ll hurt you yet
I considered my odd fate and placed my bet
Flea market. We tried on funny hats
I think you should collect all your artwork and rent a booth
And that’s the honest truth
Curves always look better in the candlelight
My hand shakes as I try to light
Never this nervous but
Never had beauty like this
The snow pounds against the window
Blizzard of the century they say
Guess I’ll spend the night, you say
And I can’t help but thank mother-nature for feeling this way

-D

 

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

The Dream Series

The Dream Series is a set of poetry that created itself. I had no intention of writing about dreams but found my poetry flowing organically towards it. Not all my poetry is dream-like. But I have a fascination with writing in that perspective. When I had written this I realized I had a few other poems that centered around myself dreaming. I don't often embark on writing "projects" if you will. But the idea does excite me and may turn itself into something I can actually hand over to a publisher. Dreams hold a special significance in my life. I often attempt to memorize and write them down as soon as possible. And certain dreams will play on my mind for weeks and months.




Let the past pass you
Dreamlike down a hidden river on a hot day
The serenity abruptly woken by the view of myself drowning
I now understand two parts of myself from a new perspective
As I attempted to remain unconscious all the while aware of two worlds colliding
Delicately approaching a choking sputtering image of myself
I hold out my hand praying I don’t wake up.
I saw in myself strange eyes
But not for the first time
The had been moments when I stumbled to the mirror
In the dead of night I saw them change
The cold water hitting my face
I turned away once, not now, not ever again. I swear…
A swell in the waves when I almost had myself in a metaphysical grasp
For a moment I lost myself
The salt peppered my mouth and old wounds
The old me with a silly smile on his face
Enjoying the destruction of my past
Rolling in the flame-like waves
I felt the grip tighten and realized
He was attempting to pull me in as well
I won’t go back to that
However,
In order to truly change I had to watch myself die once
I had to let go…

-Dev