ten thousand embers split black

ten thousand embers

three stiff crown and cokes
and then we sparked flint,
the blue propane flame
torched a tangled kindling pile
and the fire lept up,

a tower,
ten thousand embers high,
and thick and crackling fury
as glasses clinked in toast
to its expanding canopy

turned to ash, to snow, to carbon tears
falling grey on floodlit flowerbeds
around the corner, by the screened porch,

where she stood, blurred,
an outline I thought I knew
but the movement wasn't right;
way too smooth,
with no trembling,
no nervous glance around
at the heat-lightning strobe
within charcoal clouds

and coming in like the wicked witch
on a tumbling western typhoon,
my cup dropped and the room,
it's spinning, the room…

 

this time, distance has damned you.​

number's disconnected, an operator interruption​

and the pit is black and bottomless. ​

this pocket's too poor, anyway.​

can't conjure pedestals for your pirouettes anymore…​

replication failed to produce anything, ​

you know, lavishly adorned​

with destined forever-after, with cinderella polish. ​

so, time's up. midnight, remember,​

returns your gorgon makeup, the pumpkin, the rags. ​

the goddess… she’s gone away.​

 

this is my fav..

i love the woven colours of life you use
to describe your feelings

lovenpeace from saff

 

Ah. But which was real: The Goddess,
Or the flesh in which she was concealed?

 

Many wonderful images in this offering fulmah. I caught a buzz each time I read it. This quoted stanza, however, is a priceless gem. I love the easy flow of its alchemy.

 

I see through blurred vision, and all the outlines in my life are hazy with little distinction. A beautiful look into this phenomenon.