On, Off

Standard

Bare flesh, lightly visible in the moon’s spark of the black night

Standing before the massive outline of shapely treetops

darkened purpled by the densely expanse of an unknown

Staring into the depths as if looking into its genius, the creator of it all

without seeing to confirm the visual awareness of surroundings

feeling more emotion from the darkness as it demands attention by

sucking out light to anything that crosses the

boundary of shadows; dictator to all of the nightly critters, those

egotistical orators claiming the highest pitch of the chorus

to offer his or her version of story to the world

 

All of this, as I gaze out through the field

A grassy plain isolated, vulnerable to any watchful eye

A lamp goes on there, and then turns back off

on, off, on, off, on;

Proudly illuminating the nearest blanket of grass

trying to demand some of the night for itself

Covering its land in a hauntingly shade of yellow

only enhanced by the purity of each blade,

and again off

 

Now pale, dimmed within the natural light of the moon

Creating a normal hue to walk through

without feeling the suffocating grip of man

Low flying clouds churn out an embraceable

wind, that collapsed within the cloth;

protecting my skin from the harshness of touch

A kiss upon brow, satisfied

that sacrificing anything else

would kill the magic of the current

flow, frumpling feathers and giving

flight to the creatures above,

on

 

Masking identity behind palms

out, sheltering others as much as

isolating self

A cluster of memories to ruffle the

tendrils of every curly strand

Each one grasping on to a single thread

of thought attached

Highlights set aglow by flashes of

reflections;

Trying to imitate the stars overhead and

all of their tinkle tinkling

A trendy scene for a fairytale themed movie or play

With characters to love and

characters to hate

For moments of happiness and a few

remembrances of the bitter

unfortunate periods of sadness

Even those times of numb stoicness, where

giving only all to self and shutting down

any honest part of the truth, is easier than

being alive at all

A question of validation to never be answered but

to continually be pondered, because there are

always two sides to every thought

As there are to every random misplaced impulsive

reaction to any kind of sensation,

off

 

Is this what you want? I implore you;

ask, as you might demand the answer

if given the opportunity,

on

 

I think to offer surrender, like an adolescent of angst

forsaking all responsibilities and

tempting fate into showing face

Crying wolf and risking the emptiness of the

other side of faith, as it is

now but I don’t know how I could ever bear

the possibility of the worst kind of confirmation

That this is all we’ve got

I’ve resolved myself to hope, to suggest that it’s not;

 

Off.

I am grateful for playing in the light and the dark; it is what we make it. ❤

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8 responses »

  1. I am amazed. A simple streetlight given a life of it’s own and creating so much intrigue. You have a true gift. I look forward to looking back into your archives and then back again to your future posts.
    Keep inspiring

    • Not everything is as it first may appear 😉 thank you jmc for taking the time to read and comment! A new great connection for sure. I will continue to visit your posts as well! Until next time!

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