A new leaf unfurls, shimmering
Pristine and lime green,
Steadfast, and doubtless in the
Mathematical perfection of nature's
Origami.
Pretty little thing.
All too easily overlooked
In the short lived process
Of its existence, as such.
Soon, this leaf, too, will turn
Dark and dull,
Yet sturdy and fully functional;
Anonymous among its kin, so, swallowed
By the entirety that is survival.
Yet now, still,
It is a vision of purity.
I dwell on this — my incessant
Yearning purity; grounds keeper home
In the graveyard
Of my soul,
Where candlelight burns
In the darkest nights
So that the eulogies, collected,
May remain legible.
The tomes in here contain
Dust-ridden truths, I rarely revisit,
But when the wind decides
To leaf through their pages
I cannot help but glance a bit:
Hope —
Hope is a symbiont of the dead,
It grows even on ossified bones
And as such it needs not my attention
To remain.
I ponder this.
Were I more reckless, I would add:
"What more, virulent
And constricting hope becomes
When given too much time under sun;
How its roots then thirst and beg;
How its tendrils latch at throats and
Seek to squeeze out
Just one tear
To nurture the only fruits it may bear;
Despair
And dejection."
Please do not mistake the winter hardiness
Of my resignation
For the rot of cynicism.
Hope, symbiont of the dead,
Merely stems from the past;
It is the residual waste
Of a moment, captured and recognized
As a timeless truth
For the length of its
Experience.
However, such truths rarely live on for long
In us, mortal beings.
They are malformed
By our defining, and analyzing
When we cease to live within them, and start
Remembering.
Timeless truths are better left buried.
This is why I do not pick up the pen
To ruin the tome with my temporary
Imaginations.
One does not disturb the soil where
Once stood a rose
To once more see
Its petals.
One can only respectfully maintain the earth
Wherein it lays buried.
A leaf unfurls,
Pristine and lime green;
I dare not touch it due to its fragility.
There he is! A huge shout out to the wonderful Marko Saaresto from Poets , amazing vocal accomplice on Worlds Into Words. Thank you again, Marko, for bringing part of the poems to life with your voice.
★ Worlds Into Worlds, Flamelight’s debut audio poetry album ★
Available for streaming + download on all major platforms.
Here, feat. a Flamelight shirt just made for the occasion, as a small thank you for the immense treasure that is this audio collab.
Disse-to pelas nuvens
Disse-to pela árvore do mar
Por cada onda pelos pássaros nas folhas
Pelos calhaus do ruído
Pelas mãos familiares
Pelos olhos que se volvem rosto ou paisagem
E o sono dá-lhe o céu da sua cor
Por toda a água da noite
Pelas linhas das estradas
Pela janela aberta por uma fronte descoberta
Disse-to pelos teus pensamentos pelas tuas palavras
Episode 58: Ghost Flies is out now in the usual podcast haunts or at CryptoNaturalist.com.
What counts as a ghost is, perhaps, open to interpretation.
Thanks to Steve Shell from Old Gods of Appalachia for voicing today's field report.
Featuring poetry from Emilie Lygren.
MINDFUL EXPLORATIONS exhibiition by ASTE opening performance by D/z/EJAS @ KKKC Klaipeda, 2022
Visit: https://www.kkkc.lt/
D/z/EJAS is an artist duo – text and media artist Diana Lelis + musician and media artist Raivo Mihailovs – the electric sounds of the modular synth wrapping around the poetics and its plural nature. ELECTRO-POESY!
'Finality' - my final poem in this weekly series but hopefully not my final poem.
For an audio-visual experience of this poem, see below:
Where are the lines
that I need right now,
stuck in the moments
slipping through my fingers.
*
Like the final chapter
in a favourite book,
I see if I can read
one word at a time,
stretch this part
for as long as it
has taken to
get here.
*
Although this has
ended, the end makes
way for something new.
*
The final…
Its a little wet outside right now..
Its a tad bit cold, but im still breathing strong
Exasperating my last little bit just to know its me still in there,
just to know its who i recognize
The person ive been fighting for 24 years,
its me the girl that has seen life many times before
The person whos been through it all but still not enough,
not enough for the world to leave me alone
To leave me in peace to find what i was born for,
showing me the true nature of it all
the hard and the fall
the glory
of the existing life
and the ending paradise
The killing of joy
the strengthening of will
the care for so much
and the freedom from everything else