Category: Poems
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Black Curtain
I could listen to your lies forever Give me no glimpse of the truth Shroud me in your black curtains Until words have no meaning
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For Now
You say I have you Here in the dark between our hearts This moment that will beat on unending Beneath that whisper meant to give me peace Yet I see more in your eyes than you know
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Out of Reach
Time walked a straight path from the morning On a collision course with rapture Then all melted in a haze of something like color, but more A distant scream was a song on the breeze
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The Wrong Words
It was her hand reaching out to me Cold fingers grasping at a final trace of hope Like breath lingering upon a still morning That broke apart the wall, brick by brick
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Matchsticks
Fly the way of windstorms Howl at the gate, passage through the wall Voice of death calling out ‘enter’ And no dream of disobedience will come.
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Smile at the Flames
All was silent until the world broke No warning before the song of our end sang in turning gears The fires started, flames out of the sky ran liquid through the streets Consuming time to be thrown as food for the wind
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Summit
The hilltop lorded over him since the day he first drew breath Blackened peak defiant to cobbled streets below Eyes watching the spark of sun beyond the high ridge
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In the Borderlands
I walk always the line between here and there Two worlds spilling in and out of one another Lights sparking into darkness and waves that lull me further away…
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Camping
Campfires aren’t allowed here So I’m huddled beside a tiny stove A single blue flame for warmth, a headlamp for light, And the black wall of a wild forest Like a wave waiting to crash over me.
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Mutant
Treetops reach up out of scattered poisons on the forest floor Refuse and rejects left behind from a picnic in foreign sunlight Lying unclaimed on earth that cannot bear its weight
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Little One
Little one at the edge of Moon Lake Eyes cast upon the surface Hand grasping at wisps of fog That roll translucent out of the dark waters
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Death Throes of a Universe
How heavy the empty space lies over heaving ocean And stars spark together who know nothing of constellations
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Beginning
I’m supposed to write a poem about beginnings, and I can’t think of how to start it. Irony is not dead.
Mitchel David Ring 