lithedark

Sometimes the lights are too bright and you just want the soothing darkness.

Sometimes emotions have run too wild. Sometimes you’ve gone from a low place to a high place; you’ve taken an euphoric trip so quickly that your head spins.

Standing now in the dark with only a bit of cord to tether me to my love, Penelope, I look around and place myself outside the beauty of the night. A stranger looking in, perhaps, or an omniscient yet powerless observer. It’s this sort of experience where one leaves themselves behind and contemplates life from an outer consciousness. Maybe that doesn’t make any sense at all to you.

When I look back at the things I have felt, said, or written, I look down, back, or even up at someone who I am not. Between these great moments of clarity is the light. This light feels so bright when I can see so much more that it feels blinding. However, without this light I could not appreciate the darkness. My life progresses in a dreamlike fashion where I act on whims until something tears me so fully from myself that I have to look back and merely observe for a moment.

Recently, there’s a new sort of light that has come into my life. The same sort of murky, clouded light, but promising a more complete view, or at least a more complimentary one. It’s amusing to think that I might chase something that will bring me so much emotion yet again. A dear friend of mine played a song upon his guitar tonight and it riled my muse; not for poetry, but she stole me away to force me to look again at everything.

“Here we are at the beginning”, I say. “This is where it all starts. From here we are blind.”

My muse laughs and I resent her.

One year ago we stand, side by side, looking out
At a place not so far but so bright, yet without
Noticing the shadow creeping, creeping behind
Threatening our way of life, our niche in time

Now we look back, bright skies for one, all else is dark
The gray has slain us, dried up our hearts, left a mark
The dreadful dreaded death that lurks above, poised
Yet already its mark is felt, obscured by noise

As I sink and feel the sinking feeling nearing
She looks back in guilt and pain, not loving, fearing
Driven off by emotions’ demons, they drag her
Smiling and sobbing, rescued and destroyed, to love

I lay awake and stare upon the backs of eyelids
Curtains drawn, the bright lights pierce the sombre dark
And yet fierce, the biting brights that haunt my nights
They creep the walls like slender spikes, climbing
Vining, snaking, twining, reaching nightmare heights
Somewhere the din of soft voices, rumbles laughter
Perhaps, yet torn asunder, my dark world dark after
Pierced by callous motions ever hereafter

Finding myself lost after some time being found. Whether here, or not here, or depressed, or elated; whether active or inactive, reactive or proactive; whether yearning and begging, pleading, or turning, treading; making a place to lie or a place to lay, to sleep, to dwell. Here I am now, here.

Upon my wake, after spitting sand and water, I sat upright and turned my sights to the horizon. Brilliant golden streamers descended gracefully toward her, while she lay quivering beneath. Her complexion was cold and stoic as she refused the wind’s perpetual push; she was a flat plain of murky blue and I could not tear myself away. As the sunlight warmed my back and compelled me on, she stole my strength and forced me back, reeling, onto the sand. Ne’er I had a chance nor choice as she stole my breath away once and again.

Rising to my feet, I cowered as the freezing breeze stung my shins with sand and combed me with dust. I looked upon my ship, torn and broken on the rocks, and cursed she who had wrought my viduity. She, who had widowed me, stirred callously as I kneeled and wept, wetting the broken frame and returning salt to salt. Despite her brutal hand, I stood again and turned my back to her.

She had borne to me to this place of my rebirth; I turned my back to her and left the frozen beach.

Standing upon her metal frame, I found a strength I had not known before; ten thousand years behind me, yet rushing up to cradle in their arms. A slight wind blew and I looked down the waterway, into the lurid green. Sickly trees hung low above the water like old crones waiting to snatch any sign of new life from the dark water below.

She sunk in the sand a bit beneath my feet, causing me to jump. She was sturdy, oh, and she would carry me far enough. Returning my eyes to the horizon, I drank in the sun’s splendor as she poured herself over the tree-tops, spilling into the water below before turning golden. Despite the brilliant sun, the aged guardian trees around me felt cool and uninviting; they caused me to pause for moment. I had to wonder if I could sleep under them tonight, or would they prey upon me when the sun fell.

A purple haze engulfed my ache,
A mistress so in-tune,
My lady bore my weight and wake,
Guided by fluorescent moon.

A shift and stir, from side to side,
And rolling underneath,
Her sweet embrace is gentle tide
Her whispers, just beneath.

Washed upon the solid ground,
I feel a calming breeze,
Despite the earth to which I’m bound,
She puts my mind to ease.

Thrown from ship, I’ve seen the sea,
And she has seen no less of me.

Upon the waves I’m rocked to sleep,
Battered in the tempest wake,
I turn my gaze upon the deep,
And grimace, rubbing bones that ache.

The dark grey skies refused to rest,
The sea would not abate,
Frothy caps creeped up on crest,
I bowed my head, accepting fate.

On she came, oh once again,
Snapping beams asunder,
Thrown was I, to ocean den,
Blue mountains forcing under.

Forget the first and last you’ve seen of life,
White-washed canvas hides the horror of strife,
Jaded visions cloud the mind, blind the eyes,
Beget the anguish, the darkest lies.

Use the eyes to look outside, view the curse,
Avoid hostile, selfish, and the perverse,
For they are out to kill the ones who stand,
Tall above the rest, heads above the sand.

Within the mind your hidden conscience dwells,
Seek it, lift it, delivered from the hells.

Black peaks devour
First rays of fragile sunlight
Reborn in blue skies

Now that I have left my place,
Ventured into distant lands,
Disappeared without a trace,
Swallowed by the empty sands.

I find myself quite happy here,
A here so far from there,
But when old ghosts begin to near,
I find myself quite short of air.

Friends of old are foes reborn,
And so they have their place,
Ever hidden, scorn and thorn,
And yet they seem to know my face.