Of Your Twilight, the Darkness

Shadows can’t be without light… just like me. Without you, twisting my limbs in our secret garden of little deaths, I can’t find the Self that makes Me. In the Solstice of my tale, you are Sun—growth and blaze, life… and the rest. I know you fear full night. I taste the truth in words you touch to my lips, in caresses you banter to keep, in every rebel gasp my voice rips out of that bit in your mind you’ve wished didn’t whole who you are…

let me be the heart
of your twilight, the darkness
balancing the light

.
the (not so) wee notes…
– Of the Twilight the Darkness is the name of a goblin in Raising Steam, by Terry Pratchett. It’s one of my favorite names for a character… ever.
– Over at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Karin asked us to join her in a wee writing exercise: pick a letter, then a word, then write, write, write… Don’t erase. Don’t fix. Don’t stop and dance the Twist. Fine, I lied about the dancing restriction. So, dance wildly if you want. I always do. It is great for the ink. After dancing like the happiest of all writing maniacs, I chose the letter “S”… “Shadows” danced out of my pencil… and I wrote about Shadow and Light and Solstice and Love and Balance… The poem you’ve just read is the Heart and Soul and Center of the wild draft.

click HERE to see the complete stitched poem bit

The Sweetest of Wild Dreams

When I sleep with your words
wrapped around my mind and skin,
my nightmares wake up remembering
(that once upon a story)
you and I used to be
the sweetest of wild dreams.

When I roam our dead gardens—
picking dirt turned pearl and passion
fruit that never was—still,
I remember
(that once upon our story)
you and I used to be
the sweetest of wild dreams,

sweetest of dreams.

.
for the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

Once, I Had Poetry for Breakfast (and for Tea)

I let my breakfast sit for too long and it turned to vine.

nature breeds
wild spidery phonies
on fall weeds

my tea leaves
spring hearts, to help me
warm winter

.
the wee notes…
– I wrote the one-liner this morning, when I reached for a chayote to have for breakfast, and realized it had decided to grow itself a tree. The senryū and haiku, I wrote sometime last month. In the original version of the haiku, the third line includes the phrase “the fall”. I changed it for “winter” because, well… it’s quite frosty outside and my tea knows it.
– for Poets United.