Falling To Shadow

June 12, 2020

As you see, as you see, my forehead is wet,
from the sweat of death and fright,
you already managed to get too close,
let me go alone into the night.

Please let me just like a shadow pass
to wilderness quietly sighing,
drop on the hummock and wake up as grass
in the holy morning.

L. Onerva

River

April 28, 2020

I wanted to travel up the river, get lost in all that green.
I wanted silence too, at the intimate edge of the river:
the edge of the womb, the divine shadow,
the skin, such turbulence of the soul. I want to see,
and touch, quickly, like a burn.
Before becoming blind

Richard Bohringer

In the time of Darkness

April 17, 2020

Gears grind
beneath my skin, scraping
against bone.
I dig
through scar tissue
to silence the grating.
I find
sand rather than blood
flowing through the rotating cogs.

I am counterclockwise.

Hands crack
through my twisted core,
revealing that I am Longcase;
a black swinging pendulum
for a heart. I shift
like tectonic plates,
fracturing
the flesh-Pangaea
of me because I am not skin.

I am desert.

Hushed footsteps
trample over the vastness of me,
leaving prints in the oasis of my soul.
I drift backward
on a jasmine-scented breeze
as the Earth spins forward.

In solitude I watch
stars explode and vanish my era
into darkness.

I am relic.
The horizon simmers,
marinating in a moment’s time that is unknown.
My silhouette will rumble
as I slip between the hourglass, waiting
for the world to move into the void.

I am shadow.

Sara Tantlinger

Dark things

August 23, 2019

We love certain dark things
Secretly
In silence
Between the shadows and our souls –

Write for your shadow

March 5, 2019

I write only for my shadow which is cast on the wall in front of the light. I must introduce myself to it.

Sadegh Hedayat
The Blind Owl

she disappeared

September 20, 2018

After an afternoon together, she disappeared with a tree’s shadow shushing the sun, the summer breeze seeming to remember autumn. Still her movement against his body could not be swept away.

Greg Sellers,
journal entry,
Notes from Neruda’s Ghost

only a passing thing

April 21, 2018

And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end…because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing…this shadow. Even darkness must pass.

J R R Tolkien
The Two Towers