Luminous tenebris

b8bbe588034e2a148e76b5366f075e15

*image found HERE

Luminous tenebris

To not have any regrets
about things that you cannot take back

I want to be somewhere,
where I’m wearing it
like a comfy coat
that could make one outlast a winter
even if it came straight from the index finger
of the big boss himself
and straight into us.

I feel lonelier than the devil
who rides the train to Siberia
with no
other devils around to
small-talk to
about topics such as:
Would you whisper to a pretty flower
that it will end up in a vase
as you are cutting it, off from the grass?

Can you believe it?
They did research
and some taste tests
and when burrowed under anyone’s tongue
sorrow-tears
and delight-tears
taste different;
one is saltier than the other
yet fail to mention
both are just
water;
and only sinking ships
leak.

Meanwhile, at Olympus,
a see-through paper-boy with wings
is looking at a photograph
in the newspaper,
of the Fates:

youngest in fabrics of quartz
wearing an engagement ring
on her left hand,
the middle one blistering
in her house-keeping clothes
and pie-stuffing stained,
the eldest’s face
a caricature of words
cut out in Times New Roman
like a pain that comes with
the aging of itself –
straight from the mouth
of the wealthy clergy
and stapled like a lullaby
onto the circle

that hand-fasts their hands
to the twin crescent moons
swinging a breath too far
from the string
at the behest of no kings
and as a duty to no nomad;
merely knowing
what they all must do.

Tag yourselves,
I’m the shears.

What are you?

~ by Oloriel on July 6, 2020.

3 Responses to “Luminous tenebris”

  1. Beautifully intense!
    The youngest of many tongues seems to be speaking here.

Tell me something

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

 
Punk Noir Magazine

The Only Crime Is Getting Caught

Hazel J. Hall

Writing through the chaos

Quixotic Mama

some may think I'm just a fool tilting at windmills, but maybe I'm not

Celine Aubert

Explore my books, works-in-progress, side projects, and random brain machinations.

The Violet Hour Magazine

A showcase of literary & artistic talent

Horned Things

A Literary Journal for the Discerning Creature

ART BY RITVA

Colorful~ imaginative ~ Contemporary Art

One Million Photographs

Follow along with me as I travel the world on a quest to publish one million photos

Daydreaming as a profession

Daydreaming and then, maybe, writing a poem about it. And that's my life.

Pungent Sound Journal of Pulp Poetry

Poetry and Commentary that Smells

Croque-Melpomene

Author of "Within Paravent Walls", "Daughterbody I", "Daughterbody II", "you ate popcorn in my house of grief" & "mutterseelenallein und splitterfasernackt". Pentalingual Idealist. Hypercreative homebody. Transgenerational Poetess.

Tricia Sankey

poet and author of The Light in the Cave

At Sunnyside

where truth and beauty meet

Brave & Reckless

Reclaiming my inner badass at 50

%d bloggers like this: