Ungrounded
I could not speak
my sorrow so I begin
to rage
a candle
lit to burn
in the chimney
knowing myself
to have given ground
to air
Poèmes sur le thème : candle
Poèmes sur le thème « candle » sur Poets.by.
Piety
My ready rage, a creed
I put on to see
how it is: thin whip, rock
and candle on the ground.
Denied wonder, I suffer
to maintain a lie.
White Night
Bones aren’t this color.
Their darkness is on the inside,
not the outside.
This is the white of a tunnel
in a paraffin candle
from which the wick has been pulled:
burning isn’t an option,
you have to keep moving to stay ahead
of the cold on its pale horse.
An evening in winter
It was dusk outside; inside the long hall
Dinner was set; candles lit.
Away, from the end of the corridor
Twilight fell softly across the floor.
At the other end, a door opened
To a patch of sky and a green-capped tree.
In the hall, alone at the table, I sat
Staring at the food I really didn’t see.
I didn’t hear him first; maybe I sensed –
What was he after, inside a house?
Silently he had entered from the garden
Perhaps a gust of wind swept him in.
A little sparrow, fluttering his wings,
He skitters, flies up and down, zigzag.
He almost hit the ceiling, and he didn’t -
He tried to escape but the windows were closed.
Knife In the Gut
i cried in Walmart today
because a lady with a floral lighter sampled candles
cinnamon
for the pancakes you made
ocean breeze
for the trip you never took me on
pine
for the forest you burned down trying to fish
and then a sickening combination of all three
Loose Lips Sink Ships
ruffled hair
lazy trails
ice burning skin
this is not my story to tell
hushed whispers
thundering hearts
citrus candles aflame
these are not my scars
acrylic nails
soft sheets
light melodic laughs
yet my nightmares are filled with nothing else
Dead-end Dreams
There is a twilight
Where dreams end
And realities begin.
To some, it is dawn,
Wake-up time;
Dusk it is, to others.
To those who slept through
Dawn,
Dusk
Is the time
To light candles
In Wake.
Confession
Only because
we are
candles
burning
at both
ends
do I say
this word
love
and fall
silent.
Old Susan
When Susan's work was done she'd sit,
With one fat guttering candle lit,
And window opened wide to win
The sweet night air to enter in;
There, with a thumb to keep her place
She'd read, with stern and wrinkled face,
Her mild eyes gliding very slow
Across the letters to and fro,
While wagged the guttering candle flame
In the wind that through the window came.
And sometimes in the silence she
Would mumble a sentence audibly,
Or shake her head as if to say,
'You silly souls, to act this way!'
And never a sound from night I'd hear,
Unless some far-off cock crowed clear;
Rachel
Rachel sings sweet--
Oh yes, at night,
Her pale face bent
In the candle-light,
Her slim hands touch
The answering keys,
And she sings of hope
And of memories:
Sings to the little
Boy that stands
Watching those slim,
Light, heedful hands.
He looks in her face;
Her dark eyes seem
Dark with a beautiful
Distant dream;
Valley Candle
My candle burned alone in an immense valley.
Beams of the huge night converged upon it,
Until the wind blew.
Then beams of the huge night
Converged upon its image,
Until the wind blew.
"I Am Not Yours"
I AM not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, altho' I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snow-flake in the sea.
You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.
Oh plunge me deep in love--put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.