I burned The Witch of Frost,
Melted away her power,
So–
I am no longer
Bewitched by frost
In chilling climes.
Neither am I
Spellbound by lighted
Fires of fake fantastical
Promises of ghosts—
Nor can I hear
Whispering words meant
To warm you against the frost
Of lies used to charm,
Bewitching you
Into believing
Frost’s chilling, icy burn
Is desire’s fire warming.
Sit among the willows,
drifting in ghostly silence,
each wrapped comforted
by misery’s blanket.
Except I am no longer,
listening to words
carefully scripted,
tumbling into deceit’s
delicious dishes
easily prepared
by your thin lips mouthing words
filled with ghost meaning.
Regurgitated regrets
bitter in the soul and heart–
I can tell you that.
A thing you would not
ever know, catalyst of misery,
your starring role.
Except–
tell-tale signs of age
now crackle through songs of your
sweet, deceitful voice,
makes harder to catch
victims snared in misery
of life trials made.
Stop floating among
the willows, thinking yourself
Calypso casting
spells of delicious
deceit, when you’ve aged into
Macbeth’s witch drifting
in the ghostly fog of ego.
Ignoring the ripples doesn’t work,
Beautiful though they may be
In the early light of an autumn dawn.
The ripples return.
Their warmth long gone,
Drained of blood.
Injected with colors of autumn’s dawn,
They look full, alive with mysterious meaning.
But cold these ripples remain
In their return to me.
Time shifts,
Tilting beneath my feet.
I shutter and stare, a moment only—
I cannot weave these cold things
Into a useful thing, resembling you.
In the fading light,
My hindsight schools, lectures, drills
My foresight
In how to take steps,
In how to look away,
In how to live hopeless,
In how to heal with saltwater dreams
Overflowing with hope.
Yet still with foresight
In how to guard,
My scars, my wounds,
My picked at scabs
In this
fading light of days
Unfilled,
Lived,
Cheered,
Flowering with dreams,
Left
Of life remaining.
Meet me in the field
Where heather sways with the wind
Through time we will live.
Life, never a friend,
Kept us from knowing true joy,
Meet me in the field,
Where loss is gaining
And grief blossoms into joy
Meet me where gold grows.
I tossed them away
Some time ago–
Petals of the dead.
Some flowers taken
From above the six-foot holes
I have stood over,
Frozen in the emptiness
Of an empty hole
About to be filled.
Some flowers taken
From birthday and anniversary
Bouquets of celebration,
Marking years of bitter happiness.
Most flowers taken
From a wedding bouquet
Of vows taken, kept,
A reminder of vows abandoned.
Petals of the dead kept
Out of wretched sentimentalism
I burned upon the pyre
With myself.
Then climbed a new self
Of burnished bronze
From the flames.
As if I’d eaten some ancient grain
Meant for those of a long dead warrior hearted strain
I strengthen myself with tears.
Over the bare years
Only you knew innocence
Truth, ruin in seas–
Imagined decades
No time for flowers and aches
Realize in drifting
Down years– no disaster
Were you in the end,
We were just a moment.
I hid them carefully,
The tokens left
In the forest keep
Of dreams sheltered
Far too long from mists,
Giving life to forms
Shifting in shadows
Where once we danced,
Loving for a time
Among the trees
Leaning to hide us
From those
Wishing us harm.
Then I woke.
Human once more.
summer hot, humid
kills desire of sweetness
flowers forgiveness
falls decaying death
forgiveness dead leaves lifeless
blacken a gift heart
winter freezing ice
a cold weapon forgiveness
to cut the giver
spring new life begins
forgiveness lifeless, no seed
to plant, grow—never
The bird of flame rises
From the ashes in my chest—
Ash of forgiveness
Never given.
Eugi’s Weekly Prompt “Night meets Day” August 17, 2020
What a sight the years have been!
Skipped a few heartbeats
walking through the valley,
found nothing new.
I sailed an ocean
didn’t dance as I’d wanted too.
In the desert,
I played a little poker,
winning the game, some money,
but still didn’t know what to do.
Then I thought I’d found a dream,
waking from the nightmare,
I screamed to see
the sight beside me.
Now, I journey onward
to catch the sunlight
as night meets day,
greeting what new sights
I encounter along the way.
These are my inner thoughts, passions and inspirations.
An insight to a heart mind and soul.
An onion has many layers. So have I!
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