Saturday, October 22, 2011

Nighttime Nostalgia

     I'm not very good at poetry. Never have been, and probably never will be. That being said, I enjoy writing songs and poems. I have a comfort zone in prose that just needs to crumble every now and again. I found a poem last night that I hadn't seen in awhile and thought it might be fun to post, so I tinkered with it just enough that I felt it might be half worthy of sharing. It's not very good, but the emotion I felt at the time still rings true.


We don’t cast any shadows.
We bend and blend, but the sun
     will never tell you where we start
and where we -- end.

We are alive but we are bleeding,
     blood that doesn’t blow
     when the wind whirls us around

We met a girl as sharp as ice
who didn’t bend and didn’t blend
    she just --

Sometimes we wish we could break.
that we could
     s h a t t e r
so you could slice your hand on our edges

So that our pieces fall like brimstone,
fire and rain on the
     -- blackened buildings --
putting holes in the dusty ground

We are dangling from a ..tightrope..
     we can push and we --
can pull, but we --
don’t cast any shadows. 

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