i’m bathed in darkness
for your absence creates it
sorrow my only companion
look for the shining candle
that is my glowing heart
hopeful for your return
Tag: connection
Rebelle Fleur
Touch Me
Insistent voices and tiny faces
A sea of vastness
Your touch replaces
The Wandering Cartographer
from the moment the crunching gravel
of your voice reached my ear
my mind began mapping the streets
you would pave in its memory
she’s forever the wandering cartographer
Afterburns
I think I’ve loved you
since the first moment we locked eyes
but I’ve known the radiating core of you long before
if it weren’t for the afterburns
I wouldn’t have recognized your return
A Carried Weight
I’ve dreamt of tracing my name
along the bones in your wrists
over and over again
until you carry the scar of me
the way I’ve carried
the weight of your indifference
The Beginning
I watched the smoke from your vape
collect in the cool night air
as you drove us in circles under September sky
beads of sweat collected in my palms and
I realized you were large in all the ways I felt small
we parked and the hairs on my arm
stood erect from your static cling
as you gestured toward the moon
I was looking at your grin and picturing forever
you weren’t conjuring any magic that I could see
besides drawing the ends of my universe together
Fatal Palms
we never would’ve guessed
that one night spent under
fluorescent street lights and neon signs
would give way to hours spent
grazing the calluses in your fatal palms
divining dreams out of “heart lines”
and carving canyons into “laugh lines”
~~~
Rebelle Fleur is a poet of Hispanic descent hailing from the Midwest. Often focusing on the esoteric, transmutational, mystic, or even macabre, her brand of introspective poetry can be found at fleurpoetic-blog.tumblr.com, where all weirdos are welcome. She spends her free time doing taxidermy of insects and small creatures. This is Rebelle’s first feature with The Short of It.
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Carolyn Crossley
FRIENDS
Friends come in many shapes and sizes.
They come into your life for a reason.
Some are as bright as the sun that rises,
Others, are like a chilly, winter season.
Some friends are new, some are old,
Some chatter nineteen to the dozen,
Others’ quietness makes them seem cold.
They’re not, they are just waiting for when,
Into conversation they can drop gems of wisdom,
They spread like a soft, warm illuminating glow.
Value all your friends wherever they come from.
Those enchanting, and life-enhancing friends we know.
The Last Goodbye
rain drops on
her face, mixed with tears,
taste salty
on his lips, as he says
goodbye for the last time.
Letting Go
letting things go
that no longer serve you
will make you rise
lighten your heart
allow you to enter
the flow of life
Unbowed
Fields of sunflowers.
Like the courage
of the Ukrainians,
survive the bombs
and Russian artillery
unbowed by their enemy.
Violence
Violence
is not the answer
to problems.
We must talk
To each other, discussion
Is needed for peace.
Consciousness
Universal consciousness means we are
all joined together, one big connection.
Born of bright stardust, we have come so far.
We must travel in the right direction,
Always seeking our Divine protection.
The Celts
The Celts danced
here in the wild, windy,
woods.
Painted with blue woad, they pranced.
Their bow strings
taut, sharp swords and knives withdrawn.
Solid sharpened stones for slings.
They surged
forward with Celtic curses.
Adamantine army merged.
~~~
Carolyn Crossley, aka ©VixenOfVerse, is a poet/haikuista/writer. Published Work – The Short of It – Vol 1 & Vol 2, Purr-fect Poetry – Cats Protection Anthology, Poetic Vision – Guide Dogs for the Blind Anthology, OWC Publishing – Shadows – An Anthology of Short Stories, Today’s Specials – A Selection of Literary Delights. Blog: Backfromdarknesstolight.com. You can find all her work – reblogged or featured- by clicking HERE.
If you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submission guidelines.
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Reblogs – Candice Louisa Daquin & Jude Itakali
*From my research, I believe the original image (the right image) was created by the illustrator named. I’m not sure who did the flipped, black image and combined the two.
***
It seems to me that when we find the right person or people, we should hold tight. Whether friend or lover, finding a safe harbor in this indiscriminate world gives us peace, comfort, and even strength.
Your skin collects starlight
ebony turns blue in dusk
we curl tighter till no division exists
the pounding emptiness I got so used to
dissolves.
The Artist of my Soul by Jude Itakali
Who are you that sees me so clear
A voyeur who prowls my soul
And drips between its layers
Daring to divulge
Secrets I did not know I had.
How in so short a time
Have you found what none has found in a lifetime
When did you become the artist of my life story
Deftly splodging my pain in patterns across the page
Depicting my fears in adroit designs of nervous hues
Smearing my dreams in lustrous colours and glossy paints
Are you a gift sent to make me whole
A match meant to be
Or are you a curse…
Bait dangled by fate
A taste of what will never be
Jude’s additional thoughts – While writing this, I kept asking myself; can a soulmate be merely a friend (be it a lifelong one), or is a soulmate meant to be a lover or partner?
Nature Speaks To Me
These roads tell stories; taking a breath, I close my eyes and wait. My hands and feet, like roots taking hold, become one with the earth. This isn’t my first contact with Gaia.
This thirst for understanding, as if guided by a chain, pulls on me; I feel her wanting to share her secrets. On meadows and beaches, in forests, and in any place filled with her essence, I run barefoot to feel one with her, never having to feign a connection.
The distant stars flicker, millions of years apart from me, yet still, so close, have me feeling awe.
Walk With Me
Inspired by Sadje’s What do you see #135
nature surrounds us
the delicate breeze
entangles the tree branches
as we breathe in green waves of fresh air
dainty flowers rise up to greet us
painting a pretty picture
the birds follow along our path
filling our space with lovely melodies
clasping your hand
and meeting your eyes
i feel connected to everything
and yet still distinctly separate
Forever Bonded
Inspired by Sadje’s What do you see #131
the first-born knew
the youngest would go far
being curious, intelligent, and bold
she was way beyond her years
they both leaned on each other
the inexperienced one required the wisdom
and the oldest unwound from the spontaneity
largely when they grew up
a connection formed in childhood
and survived through the ages
one needed the other
who needed the other
forever…
Reblogs – Candice Louisa Daquin & Paul Vincent Cannon
When people, minds, spaces, or anything which fills us with richness collides with our humanity, a connection is made. It is a deep need called “what human stuff is made of.“
Glass Heart by Candice Louisa Daquin
Do not think you are a burden
the only burden that could ever be
is to live this life without you
because if not for you
the sky would stay grey and lifeless
the winding road would appear straight
a drink would be without thirst
sleep would possess no dream
no idle moment thinking of you, would exist
no thought of holding us together, pressed tight
night would not be a time to dance as one
a day no day, worth waking for
no word written if you were not the muse
no book read with thought of future
for you are the friend I always longed for
as a child when nobody seemed around
and emptiness sat, a shroud
for you are the family I sought
in loneliness and that terrible walk
you know the one, you walked it too
we have both suffered and the one constant
is that no burden exists, when we are together
so, when you next believe you are a burden
think on this, remember these words
see the sky when it is blue and emptied of clouds
see my smile when I rush to your side through rain
feel our souls touch the other, never in vain
know that my heart beats because yours beats too
people are not meant to live alone in their soul
when in tangent, we are no longer separate; but fused
like glassblowers who try to create
in the meld of plunging metal and fire into water
the finest unbreakable vase, to hold flowers that never die
as long as you exist I want to try
as long as there’s an us, there is a purpose higher
where no amount of pain destroys
the heart of glass where two reside
where all the cruelties of the world appear
somehow removed and not as sharp
it is possible to be one; from two halves
there is you, there is me, there is us
and burdens are for the blind
who see nothing worthwhile
our glass stays shatterproof
where love thrives in Winter
and needs nothing more
than the joy of your smile
when we run, hand in hand
together
Connection by Paul Vincent Cannon
Words formed my lips
to abstraction,
departing faintly,
hovering gently in the space
that is not me, not you,
something completely other
in the between space of
all there is, hoping, waiting,
to be taken, received
and known, not in the
hearing of mere sounds,
but in the deep of listening,
of knowing a knowing
that opens a connection.
Reblog – Melding by VJ Knutson
Becoming one…
I have ventured
into your atmosphere
slipped my skin
your skin
and discovered
a universe
thoughts
emotions
beliefs
blending
into a physical dance
of light and shadow
nuances of colour
delineating life
At our core
we are light
leaning into mystery
cellular interpretations
of a symphony
we cannot hear
Compassion extended
mind altered
we meld.
(A free flow poem in response to Reena’s Exploration challenge: As Above . Click on link to view video. Image my own.)
Safely Landing
a place of retreat
for my weary heart
a soothing offering
from allies and nature
no pretense, just comfort
a soft haven when things get ugly
i cherish this feeling of respite
this contentedness in connection
people, places and things
bringing me joy
without even trying
i can feel the love
I Write Her 