The Pulse Of Gravity

A brief attempt at understanding what it means to be a mere human.

[pulseofgravity-blog]

Italian Eyes

You remind me of a face I once knew.

Of a nose innocence-spattered, Of Italian eyes that flirted With six o’clock light Like prisms.

But he let the light blind him.

-M. Taylar Culberson

[ponderation]

[pulseofgravity-blog]

The Last Bell

I’ll watch now As pictures blur into the shoreline, Reminders of the black nights That beckoned us into mischief, And white birthmarks tanned transiently Onto the backs of whiter thighs, As giants turn to small shadows dancing along the bronzed city, As faces, whose soft angles I knew blind, Are muted.

I’ll wonder If the voices were ever really there. If perhaps I turned dreams to something more concrete, grappling for something to wrap my fingers around.

But the bells were never ours to begin with.

-M. Taylar Culberson

[pulseofgravity-blog]

Watch ink on a page Conjur colors and heartache As if it had teeth.

-M. Taylar Culberson

[pulseofgravity-blog]

She left pieces of herself in all the people and things she loved, until she had no more left to love herself.

-M. Taylar Culberson

[colingallagher]

[pulseofgravity-blog]

Leave

At first it turned me dark to meet again, To sit with you, and coffee, laughing soft About how wreckless our small hearts were then, To recall our young desire, flirtation oft.

But autumn leaves, turned red with zeal, are lost To wind not long beyond their fallen fate, And like those rosy letters that are tossed, I think, so was our childish game of play.

So too remember gold tones of our day, the softened yellow leading burning red And all our fawnish frolic did make way For love that lent itself alone for friends.

Perhaps another life would tend the rose, But since this breath is what I breathe, who knows?

-M. Taylar Culberson

[suspend]

[pulseofgravity-blog]

Someday.

[pulseofgravity-blog]

Falling Petals

Without much effort came the fall, and yet So soft the whistling wind to me does sing; Perhaps it was my heart who did abet My feet to vault the edge by myths of wings.

Yet still, as blossoms overnight do spring, So rapid mine own visage does too rose, And while your light avoids nightingale’s ring, My loyal face waits faithful for you—home.

But long I waited, weary, wounded; Oh, How vast the darkness spread its wings to shield My hopeful eyes from dawn’s assuring crow. And then I heard, from there in earthy field,

The wedding song which lauds of moon and sun, Who gave his rightly place so her he won.

-M. Taylar Culberson

[pulseofgravity-blog]

Joe

She kisses all their cold lips awake, That whore. Every man that strokes her ego And her ceramic skin, She lets them, Purring in satisfaction, Perking up. Perking them up.

Each one of them Loyal to her. Every morning, sometimes Every night too. And she belongs to all of them.

Can’t seem to give her up though. Damn drug. The smell of her keeps me coming back. And I can’t help myself From falling right into her Trap. That dirty cup o'joe.

[bey]

book

[pulseofgravity-blog]

Two pairs of hopeful eyes, The half-second when they met, Peach fuzz on the back of her neck That prickles when he laughs. Quick breaths in when they hug goodbye, Wondering what she meant When she said she couldn’t wait for next time. He’d bring that book he mentioned, And she’d look forward to it. The others poke and prod At how her laugh had lingered Just a little longer at his joke than all the rest, How he offered his coat too soon, Before goosebumps had even risen on her skin. She swears that if she could do it over again, she would have stood a little closer so that he could hear her sigh when he said her name. Then maybe things would have turned out A little differently.

-M. Taylar Culberson

[pulseofgravity-blog]

You say you want someone who understands second chances, but you fall out of love as soon as you realize her veins bleed black just like yours.

-M. Taylar Culberson

[pulseofgravity-blog]

It seems as though we will forever be just two pairs of eyes that shared a hopeful glance once a long time ago.

-M. Taylar Culberson

[pulseofgravity-blog]

I will never forget what we were for those brief summer months, before our patience was cut shorter with the daylight.

-M. Taylar Culberson

[prxyi]

[pulseofgravity-blog]

You have the most beautiful soul I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.

M. Taylar Culberson