Tag Archives: late night

Slash of the Moon

Daisie sat on the edge of the river, cold beer in her hand,

just brought up from the cold water where it was sat to cool.

Her friend was asleep in the tent, but she was wakeful, restless,

and sat in the darkness beneath starlight and slash of moonlight.

She felt almost weightless, as if she was straining to break free

from the earth, from gravity and the world, back up to those stars,

from which she’d been seeded, either by supernovas or malevolent beings,

to nothingness of light, the dream that was without wakefulness.

Out in the water, she heard splashing and an animal cry, hissing, angry.

Her eyes had adjusted to the dim luminescence from the stars above,

and in the white shadows, she saw a mermaid, with black, black hair

and glints on aquamarine skin, and eyes that shined, fish in it’s mouth.

The mermaid, bared it’s teeth around it’s  kill, angry at being seen.

Daisie’s breath caught, cold fists clutching her lungs, her heart racing.

Eye shine in the bone pale moonlight, they gazed one at the other.

Then the mermaid, with a flick of her tail and a big splash, went under.

Daisie sat there in the starlight, the cold and gripping fists slowly letting go,

and looked out dumbly were the wild and hungry eyes of the mermaid had

gazed out upon her, one of the last wild things, and comforting in it’s harshness.

Even here, only an hour away from Gatlinburg, untamed beasts still lived.

Daisie sipped from her beer, and thought of her friend, sleeping, without a care.

The alcohol, and the cold, the weightless untethering, the flicker of the mad world,

all unmoored her from her flesh, her spirit walking in the stars, on the true moon,

that was Artemis’s skull after the waking of her last daughter’s eyes, so long ago.

The Beauty of a Passing Desire

Snowy night, 2am, Christmas Morning.
All night convenience store, The Fort.
Coming for some hot, black coffee,
Just to escape my choking room.

Sip gently from the cup, still burn my tongue.
Watch the wet snowflakes put on a mask,
Make this dingy neighborhood look clean.
The cold puts the lie to a world reborn.

There’s a young woman standing by the freezer
Where you get the bags of ice out front.
She is lingering here, smoking a cigarette,
Her eyes distant, harsh and so wide open.

I smile at her, and she gives a small one back.
She’s strong and tough, with short, pixie hair.
Amazon and dreamer, staring me down.
I look away, sip my coffee, with its futile warmth.

I walk back to my apartment, my knit hat
Becoming wet, my lungs sore in the cold,
Making in my mind a vision of the young woman, so I can write these words now.

The beauty of a passing desire.

White on White

White on white of her

under shirt and t-shirt

and she absently wipes

down the tables, end of shift.

Too worn black pants,

and spiky black hair,

pixie cut growing out again,

sighing of the growing rift.

The simple little diner

is too garish white against

the black of the cold winter night.

Too sleep again is the gift.

I put sickly green bills on the table,

and she smiles, her brown eyes shining.

At the door I watch her, white on white,

as my girlfriend comes to give me a lift.

 

Always Pining

A smoky club, dim lights, hole in the wall.
Standing still, she sings her wispy siren call.
Head cast slight down, dark hair over eyes.
Words sung, sorrowful, warm and so wise.
Witching hour, cigarette smoke a lace veil,
as I remember Eden and a first kiss without fail.
She sings the angels down, they eat from her land.
I thought they’d forsaken this spoiled, dark land.
2 AM, outside in the Old City, bitter January cold.
What love truly is, I was never honestly, purely told.
The songs echo in my soul, and the night is so shining.
I find sweetness in her song, and in Caroline, always pining.