#320
The smell of smoke
sits in my jacket the
morning after the fire,
i wear it like a perfume.
The night passed stoking,
sipping, and speaking
as we sat round, and round
watching the flames dance.
The ash it churned, dusting
over memories alive like embers,
some holding the heat, others
burrowing away as contemptuous coal.
To sit in the smoke
is to sit in the light.
#321
That biting Autumn air,
and hanging threat of rain,
jackets and heavy bags,
electric neighbourhood cheer,
something was happening,
something connecting,
some windows were drawn
lights dimmed,
and they seemed scarier
than the macabre decorations
the kindness of the shadow,
a lesson that took long to learn,
a night dosed in moonlight,
in laughter, squeals and glee,
a night walking with my father.
#322
Oh those demons walk,
between the hallowed nights,
through the dawn, through the light,
with their honey hair and golden words,
their as treacherous as serpent curls,
they smile and blush, and coax you with sin,
then cackle and shear as the walls cave in,
scream, and shout you words are heard not,
the straightjacket tightens as your soul is lost
Oh let these sirens speak, let them talk,
But don’t let them further than the quickest thought.
#323
Some calls to the muses
are answered in anxiety
instead of words.
Theres no clarity
solely sands,
grating grains
that simply weren’t summoned,
its ok not to enjoy this moment,
its ok to shudder at the touch
of frost on the nape of your neck,
its ok not to enjoy the rain,
the sound on your roof top,
the awaiting wet ahead.
There won’t always be sunshine,
and inspiration. Some hours are gray,
some days are lost.
#324
Used to be that the darkness plagued me.
Its whispers scratched shivers,
the depths of dark masking rooms to abysses
the unknown taunting, twisting,
watching as i struggled to sleep.
Used to be i wouldn’t ask questions, wouldn’t
extend whys, i wouldn’t extend a hand
past the edge of the bed. i used to sit and
suffer, by only my design, because i let
the darkness pollute the thoughts within my mind,
i looked a little closer, at the swirls of deep black
in the rolling shapes i saw something gentle
looking deep at me right back, the watching became
welcomed, the dark embraced as the Sun’s light
the only thing that changed was how i thought at night.
i befriended all those monsters, i trusted their intent too
and now before i settle to sleep, i have a place i
look forward to.
Thanks for joining! Find poems through out the week on my instagram @monsieurwrite
Don’t forget to check out the poems being recited on The Write Stuff podcast!
Take care, call your family, tell them you love them.
wazoo!
-Mr. Write