Catharsi

A place for poetry and prose

[catharsi-writing]

It's Just a Ride

It’s Just a Ride

Back from the depths again, my friend. Back to the top with the other men. Back from the place we’ve always been, In the light, Yet nigh it is, Until the time we climb again.

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Isolate

What were we meant for, we who never feel the inclination to lift a finger to the beckoning call of the anvil? We would rather snake through the gaps left in the construction, like pensive ivy, than strike the hammer down in that steady rhythm; we who may never march or dance on tempo, but feel the pounding explosions in our soul, just as the blooming petals of the morning glory feel the radiant…

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The Silent Trapeze

The room never gets bigger, The more I want it to, The more it constricts.

I swear the paint on the wall Is threatening apprehension. I swear the window is mocking me.

Time doesn’t exist here. None but the tick of mortality, And that heavy silence, The answer to my inquiries.

The silence sharpened By the haunting memory, The morbid melody of your voice.

Did I ever have a choice? Was there ever…

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Laughter in the Dark

Laughter in the Dark

My mistress is laughter in the dark. The places the devil goes to be alone, The basements with broken lightbulbs, The burden of fears frozen in our hearts; My mistress laughs in that dark. Her grin casts shadows on my face. She breathes wisdom on my ears, when she says “Our love was never meant for daylight.” She’s the ghost in the park, swinging on the swingset. She’s the eyes flashing in a field of…

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Bad Moon

I saw my bad moon rising. She had beautiful brown eyes and, She led me into the night then, She disappeared from sight amidst the shifting skies, As the clouds collapsed and obscured her light. I was left alone, far from home, In the wonder of a dark field With patient thunder roaming around me.

One forgets how alive the times of isolation can feel, When the shadows twist and move about; When the…

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It happens sometimes, That itch you can’t scratch, That anger you can’t stop, That peace we can’t see.

It happens sometimes, That sadness that sticks, That hope that sleeps, That guilt that sears.

It happens sometimes, And I can’t control it, And you always know it, And we never show it.

It happens sometimes, It stays inside, It eats away, It steals the day.

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The Frame

Don’t cry over broken windows, If you don’t know where they go. Or what’s on the other side, Don’t wonder why it’s shattered. Or if it ever even mattered to anyone. If the reflection wasn’t strong enough. The breeze could caress And kiss, the jagged edges. But what’s the difference? It still cuts the feet of perching birds, It still cuts the wind and sings, It still frames her face. The one who looks out…

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Rain

I fell asleep under a cloud of ash today, With little black flakes falling like rain. I felt the heat on my skin, And became convinced, This life is simply futile pain; A way to disengage from mortality. The fine, tight-rope line we step upon Though, not for long, For reality begins and ends with us. Just one step and you’re there: Start to finish, Spring to winter, Star to nova, You blink and it’s over. The…

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Lonely River

The little games our eyes play when they’re closed, The blooming colors to wonders imposed, Behind resting lids we retreat from those, Sirens, the violent vibrance of our woes. Should the light crawl through our skin and bleed bright, Should our pulses fall dead in the cold night, My solace is you, sleeping next to me, While my eyes are closed and I hear you breathe, What more must I see, other than this…

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Dream Lessons

When the sky is silver and grey, And lead lined clouds strangle the day, We find them creeping closer still, These frightening feelings and their thrills, So far behind as they trace us, Through our lagging scents, they taste us, Those dreams where we are trapped inside, Those nightmares where we’re free to die. With ancient whales swimming above, Towards the sun, escaping us, And elephants climbing the…

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Shots of Sunshine

Cheers, to the nightmares we were, And survived once more. Drink in the heaven’s sojourn, and open our doors. Taste the sunshine’s warm kiss, And drink in this life. Try and forget all this, To enjoy the night. But, when it’s all over, Don’t close your eyes yet. So soon we’ll be sober, As never we met. Don’t let your light grow dim, As it was in hell. Remember where you’ve been, The distance we fell. Rise and…

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Muddy Boots

The thought of resting, without your blessing, Sent shivers up my spine. The kiss on my brow, ass it’s all quiet now, Left a request in my eyes. Though, what is a request, without a strong grip, But a prayer for more time? No, it is but with capture, and villainous rapture, That you shall be mine. Roll over tombstones, and howl to the moon’s home, That dusky, darkened night. Pick the star for your quiver,…

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Capital Revival

Where is she now, in fields of firelight? Where is she when you think of her burning? Not here, not near, so distant from my life. In constant turning, I curse my yearning. Limbs flailing over bar stools and young eyes, The twinkle in her pupil is your grave. The falling rivers of hair trace demise. This wound will lie, to tell you that you’re brave. Like the jester juggling his tragedy, And the king…

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Lonely Patron

Forgive me if I struggle to forget A happy memory, not distant yet. Who’s traced so far the footsteps of your heart, And wandered past where I might dream to start. Send me to your lily speckled river, Where you past lovers sip your apathy, So I may be among sleepless beggars; Cursed souls who know the lips that taste so sweet. Send me to your frozen, starlit desert, Where the carrion escapes the weather A…

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Gravel

I pulled some weeds today, Out of the gravel plot, And then you went away, The reason, I forgot. But then, I always knew A flame burns bright and short, But a burn speaks true, In a princess’s court. Though, the funny thing is, I still feel like a king, With unworthy, poor princes, Who don’t know a poor thing, About what it means when, A king loses good men.

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What Day Is It?

What Day Is It?

I think it was that day that I saw, The dreams shrink from my brother’s face, Leaving only strained and shaking pupils. Or, maybe it was that day a saw my great grandpa, Cling desperately to a mind that was already deceased, Fighting, in the end, just to stay on his feet. Or, maybe it was that warm, summer afternoon, When I was filling bird feeders at the hospice clinic, And my eyes met those of a woman,

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Beside The Water

May we patiently speak, To the invisible diamonds, Hiding under your eyes in silence. The sharp, crystal shapes That excite the sunrays, Who bloom and shimmer on your face. May we spend our days, Listening to the lines you play, On your lyre, lute, french horn or flute. Aside this silent fjord, Speak, to me, your memories, Convey your misty, distant melodies. May the sun hide behind, The slender fingers of…

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