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Literature Text
If In The Morning You Are Breathing…
Terror, Love, terror—
Each night, asleep.
Fearing no bad dreams, no—
Yet the unsettling is complete.
For if I close my eyes,
And you, you do not wake--
Wasting every breath I keep--
And you somehow have escaped;
This realm, this realm that holds your soul:
If in the morning you are not whole,
T'would be no miner leap:
I would with you withdraw--
And draw no breath
And make no speech.
So Love, here, hear me beseech:
Let us each settle down in gentle
Let our repose crawl and creep;
And when the morning finally dawns
Let the sunlight be replete:
With you, with you Love--
Breathing,
Sound
And
Deep.
As both we know
Breathing
Is no unaccomplished feat
Take the air, draw in the air
And forever it repeat.
Terror, Love, terror—
Each night, asleep.
Fearing no bad dreams, no—
Yet the unsettling is complete.
For if I close my eyes,
And you, you do not wake--
Wasting every breath I keep--
And you somehow have escaped;
This realm, this realm that holds your soul:
If in the morning you are not whole,
T'would be no miner leap:
I would with you withdraw--
And draw no breath
And make no speech.
So Love, here, hear me beseech:
Let us each settle down in gentle
Let our repose crawl and creep;
And when the morning finally dawns
Let the sunlight be replete:
With you, with you Love--
Breathing,
Sound
And
Deep.
As both we know
Breathing
Is no unaccomplished feat
Take the air, draw in the air
And forever it repeat.
Literature
Offering
It was when I heard your gentle laugh
of wind-blown chaff,
yet so soon after shot through,
once you knew,
with the deep rapid-fire of your sobs,
that I noticed the blood in my shoes.
I would die, surrounded by
such a release shorn...
I could die
for the shade of the tree
from which you were born-
my melancholy uplifted
from snails turning and
leaves greening, and the flight of
crows reflected in your eyes...
their paleness beseeching
the smoldering coals
from the fires of my own-
begging silently to translate
all the persecuted secrets
you've begun to breathe deeply from...
to offer you the cup of verse,
minted fo
Literature
As the Sun Walks
I will rise and walk the sidewalks as the sun walks them.
With careful steps I will do my best to stay up and awake,
Though the sun has no problems with this,
I do— we are far apart, Sol and I, fire and earth.
I will rise and walk the sidewalks as the sun walks them,
To the best of my ability, be the tip of the invading spear as it
Mirthfully chases away the night, calling that day has come,
Let Night retire to their mutual couch!
I will rise and walk the sidewalks as the sun walks them.
For the morning is a sort of table, a place of parley between
Light and Dark, and between silence and noise.
Literature
Insomnia
Tell me the name is for a goddess,
capricious and deadly, who
mocks the afflicted in their dreams.
I might endure more graciously
if only this were a dream. It is
she who tosses fireballs of light
pulsating, flashing bright
and going dim in the blackness
behind these herniated eyes,
to devour while I hear the sustained
pitch of a sonic scream through
the static frequency of night air,
the peel and cry of her harpies
smelling of singed hair and brains;
the fever and sound rips through veins,
cauterizing shut the window for sleep,
leaving the frantic staccato of a
heart in flight, as I whisper
Goddess, why sp
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My husband is not well, and these thoughts keep going through my mind---what if I wake up tomorrow and he no longer breathes?
© 2012 - 2024 rainonwednesday
Comments29
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I don't mean to sound clichéd, but I was hooked. A strong mix of yearning and fear, and the very clear emotion accentuates the tone throughout: this is the way I wish I could write!
You have my prayers also, you both deserve happiness and health and I wish both will make a home with you permanently.
You have my prayers also, you both deserve happiness and health and I wish both will make a home with you permanently.