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Goodnight, Menai LightsThis is my first happy Autumn,
tonight, my first genuine smiles
I see lights across the Menai
as they sing my first 'goodnight'.
But they are songs I've never heard,
and all our imaginary words;
all those words
I was too stubborn to say,
they stop in my throat,
and they choke me like mutants
without the mutations,
so that now
I can only hear.
And I heard you walked alone last night
through this beautiful, silent city
in the mountains.
And last night,
I saw the stars for the first time,
shyly blushing behind the burnt sky.
They called to me, "We miss you",
and as they disappeared in blisters,
I paused and almost whispered,
"I miss you too."
So the Autumn leaves hold onto me.
I just drag them inside
Thanks, but no thanks.Restricted
in the evening until some childs bedtime.
Thank God it wasnt mine,
I cant say that in this house.
The grand prize of bards
But to me,
I would gloat,
but its arms are merely beer taps
hiding half-empty bottles of gin
under the kitchen sink.
And the legs?
From AprilI can see the moon wall.
The only manmade structure visible
But its not as stable as it looks
Leaving marks in the red and gold furnishings
that defy the laws of gravity
and the soft, smooth whiteness of walls.
Slipping and squeaking under skin.
Dont step outside, please;
you cant breathe.
Dont imitate the kids in PVC.
Theyre getting high on lack of oxygen,
and they cant see.
Abandoned ChapelThe parish waits now,
the loneliness of corners
crawling outward on walls--
chipped away by the wind,
and held together
by silk spindles;
cobwebs align them like the membranes of memories,
the cut of a jewel in an broken window
against the sun
where beads of rain
gather in a mesh of strands
a new Mosaic
against the backdrop of a cemetery;
My eyes seek out the sermon
in close proximity,
paint no distance
between headstone and cloud;
elegies topple each other
in their climb to heaven
as light trickles
over the shade,
breathes a new glow over snuffed candles.
I feel the weight in these empty rows,
how a breath couldn't cease to be breath
in the midst of prayer.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More