Timing is a Red Coat


*Image found HERE

Timing is a Red Coat

No fire can be started gently.
Flint against tinder.
Tinder against bone;
bone against bone.
Metal wheel against lighter fluid.
Tip of the thunder against a dry bush.
Right forearm against the dull edge of the table.
Skin against twig.
Friction against no intentions.
Twig against smooth rock.
Word against the forest.
Fairy lights against bewilderement.
Concoctions against organic.
Meaning against the mind.
Forest against mouth.

We guide the match across the box
in the velocity of our hunger for the light;
Go on, and ask it to burn candid;
Not to swallow, not to disturb,
flicker as it may against the canopy
of solitude it tries to break handless.
Sightless. Unquestioned. Heartless.

I will not come to you with torches;
I will not come to you with sunsets
spilling out of my pockets;
I will not come to you like a sermon
for the ashen dreams of a dried up sea;
I will not come to you held, driven and walked across
until I was timid and dead like charcoal
and it will not matter have I walked
or crawled or ran
and have I in my sizzling stared wide
at the wounds that I might make
or the wounds that I have taken.

I want to come to you godless.

~ by Oloriel on February 1, 2019.

15 Responses to “Timing is a Red Coat”

  1. Oloriel! Where have you been? Happy new year! And thank you for the poem. It’s been a long time since I read one of your great works on this page. Now I realize I missed the experience. Have a wonderful weekend!

  2. “We guide the match across the box
    in the velocity of our hunger for the light;”

    I so totally get that. Beautifully written. ❤ So good to read your golden words again, O. (!)

  3. I love the use of repetition. (K)

  4. Such powerful words. Read it twice!

  5. Beautiful and powerful. ❤

  6. Oh I have missed your writing… you come back strong as ever… the darkness and dependency, the passion of the flame come across so well.

    • Thank you very much for reading, and for the comment; I think I have noticed the dependency only after you have mentioned it; and that is precious to me.

  7. Such a potent verse inflamed with a certain passion and conviction of the individual essence of being — it’s like a chant or a ritualistic incantation as an assertion of this expression. You always amaze me with your iridescent imagery and burgeoning metaphors, dear friend.
    I love, love this bit: “Go on, and ask it to burn candid;/Not to swallow, not to disturb,/flicker as it may against the canopy/of solitude it tries to break handless./Sightless. Unquestioned. Heartless.”
    It is always a pleasure to read you!

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