Where Rivers Flow
tiny planets, two hydrogen/one oxygen at a time
counted easily as stars
forge in this one
a chasm that leads eventually to one grander
tiny planets, two sorrow/one suffering at a time
counted slowly as stars
forge in every one
a chasm that leads to one greater
between stone or hearts or both
between the me i know i am and wish i was
between the you that you are and the you that i remember
between the love of what was and the pain of what will be
or maybe they are all the same chasm
are all one
themselves and their like
across three days of darkness to the moon
and the further silence to the great planets
and phobos and deimos
cutting a chasm of all hearts
across the freezing hot black between
my world and yours
9. July 2008 at 22:35
I haven’t written any poetry in years. Many years. When this poured out, I figured I should post it before I think about it too much.
If you think it may be about you, it probably is.
10. July 2008 at 12:02
I knew it was about me! Wait, wait…okay, maybe it isn’t.
I always have a problem with the internal self-editor when I’m working on something creative. Sometimes you just have to club him in the back of the head and get something out there while he’s down.
10. July 2008 at 20:06
My internal self-editor is very spartan. He’ll say “Matthew Arnold would never publish such trite drivel.” He’s right though.