and so it ends
lightning in the distance
we all have brief moments of
white hot
sand into glass
prism light – these choices
we all are in danger
of ending a
flicker in a sky
between clouds shyly
aware that some
won’t ever hear us
thundering.
Category: poetry
-
lightning in the distance
-
poetry takes her leave
poetry stalks leggy
head up, blushing,
turns around and slams the door–
“we” laughed for hours
at the haughty exit scene.
-
my first sight of Alaska
glimpes of streams
and teases of
jagged peaks behind
scarves – lace silk –
clouds, some
more like a corset.the road curves ahead…
on either side
obscured mountain impressions
spruce – dark green tall thin –
and rain.[written in 2003 within a sketch that i can’t reproduce here…]
-
we are vampires
I drain your thoughts away,
and then there are the glances and that subtle
flutter when you approach.We crawl the night thirsty.
Desire between the damned is
my need to hurt you,
bite scratch claw you bloody.
And your need to lash out
those few nihilistic times we speak.We know nothing of the other beyond these walls.
But then
in the haze of smoke that hangs down from the ceiling
like electrical wires
and loose panels under construction,
in the only light of green beer bottles and neon signs,
and empty sticky shot cups,
and those not amused by life anymore,
and the ragged dying breath of slow drunken dances,
and good girls sliding down poles,
and bad girls hiding in the bathroom,
and big muscled men and shaved heads singing Godsmack,
in the last hour,When our eyes have adjusted,
you kiss me goodbye.Panic before the world turns bright.
The frantic cramping fear that we have wasted it all.We are thirsty gluttons for punishment.
-
hey hon
hey hon, hows bout a dance?
we could hold hands
and foxtrot.hey hon, hows bout a kiss?
lean in close before ya
say goodnight.before ya close the door to my
Mustang, turn quick,
and wave.before the weekend winds away
back to steel and rust,
and dirt.
-
a lost young man
say you,
when rain bleeds
heavy
on window panes,
hear your parents
praying:
maybe next life
we’ll do it
better
maybe next go round
we’ll solve
puzzles
before untouched
we’ll conquer demons
yet to be
vanquished
we’ll reconcile these
self-hatreds
into a lasting peace
the sort that
when rain falls
will now sing us to
sleep.[rip ryan]
Poetry by JC Snyder 