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Literature Text
Last night I saw the sky turn red.
The heavens heaved and all life bled
as meteors rained upon the world,
the cosmos' wrath raw and unfurled.
I could do naught but gaze wide-eyed
at cities razed and lives denied,
at trees ablaze and fields aflame.
When at long last I o'ercame
the fear that froze me to the ground,
I looked around and there I found
two lovers locked in tight embrace,
a blissful death etched on their face.
This life of ours 's a tawdry treasure,
for there's no meter that can measure
the tears that trickle and descend,
the meteors that have yet to land…
The heavens heaved and all life bled
as meteors rained upon the world,
the cosmos' wrath raw and unfurled.
I could do naught but gaze wide-eyed
at cities razed and lives denied,
at trees ablaze and fields aflame.
When at long last I o'ercame
the fear that froze me to the ground,
I looked around and there I found
two lovers locked in tight embrace,
a blissful death etched on their face.
This life of ours 's a tawdry treasure,
for there's no meter that can measure
the tears that trickle and descend,
the meteors that have yet to land…
Literature
Mangoes
Running barefoot down
narrow paths sodden by
a deafening downpour
through mangroves and palms
in this land where
no corn grows, and
sugar cane rows blind the view
from un-tilled slopes of
low-slung emerald hills.
I don't recognize the rain,
it smells of volcanic ash
and sea salt burning
as I search for the stain
hopelessly trodden,
changing its course.
If only I could find a tree
that bears familiar fruit,
and see colors or hear sounds
that point me to you,
but I'm a stranger.
This path wends to the shore
where the island comes full circle,
offering dead things in the sand
and no escape
because you're not here.
I return to the fie
Literature
You, Me, and the Fireflies
There's a stable that holds consistency and horses
and men who don't know the difference.
There are fireflies- nature's dusk, flashlights,
and men who put them in jars.
Like how they think every person is a star.
We are not stars. We are people.
Do not mistake us for being brighter than we are.
Don't put light on our faces and say "look how bright she shines!"
Shining does not make a creature divine.
We are made in the image of who?
So why do we personify the things we are not.
Stars get names.
Babies get names.
Take the sky for what she is, and she will take you for what you are.
How would the world be if winter storms said,
"
Literature
Apologia
Apologia
It may be I’m not
much for frail mushroom
caps rushed to life
by the damp shade of
an Ohio vale,
or the scent of fresh
cut lilies wilting in a study
made splendid by open
books and notes to self,
but I know
as well as anyone
what darkness rain will lend
the bark of trees
in a storm,
and the scent of wildfires
drifting though June
aglide a carpet of salted air.
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life is all
we have
we have
© 2009 - 2024 Leurindal
Comments47
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You are consistently and compulsively thoughtfully readable. Too many adverbs exploding in that sentence. They happen when I get excited.
Rather than bleak, you've rendered the post-Apocalyptic with various measures of hope and affirmation. Incredible.
Rather than bleak, you've rendered the post-Apocalyptic with various measures of hope and affirmation. Incredible.