deepundergroundpoetry.com
A Memory of Sunlight
I can’t help but wonder
If partings begin to take
Their shape,
In our earliest moments
Together
Wind occasionally bends the
Downpour, toward
Us, lifts your
Age thinned
Hair, with phantom
Fingers
Caress
You look at everything
As if,
It may not be
Real,
Composed of some
Momentary
Whimsy,
Hanging beneath the
Hammer
Of some atmospheric
Thunder,
Moments before
A meteoric
Impact,
Lays waste to everything
Are there
Apparitions
In our sunlit revels,
Roots
In our laughter,
Lurking in the syrupy
Dregs
Of upended bottles,
Eyeing us, as we
Plod
Along
Our capers,
In blissful ignorance
It’s become odd
To see you dressed in
Anything, but the hospital
Gown, so sheer and inadequate,
No modesty
In its utility
Old clothes hang
Loose, have already
Forgotten
You, draped over
Skins, pinched with
Desiccation,
You’re already shrinking
Toward nothing
Cloud shadows creep across the
Manicured lawns, moisture
Glistening across their
Phalanx of sheer
Blunted
Blades
I wonder if this
Is what’s best
For us, muscles
Tense
And slackening, as we
Are milled,
Daily,
Within the perfect
Mathematical
Paradigm
Physics
Of nature
I wonder if dreams
Are a glimpse
Beyond
The illusory veil of space
Time
You reminisce of brighter
Days, half in the halogen
Light, half in
Haze
You remember everything
Slightly different,
Than I,
Makes me smile
It wasn’t long after that,
You died
Distant windows project
Mirrors,
Of darkened skies,
Roiling with unquiet
Atmosphere
The memory ends there, warps
And spreads a toothless
Mouth, engulfing
Everything in an unmoored
Void, like melted photographs
We left
As we fled
The flames, with nothing
But our lives
Rain holds a memory of
Sunlight,
Walks behind its gossamer
Curtains,
Carrying unspoken
Promise
There’s a flowerbed where we
Once stood, now
A medley of sounds
Odors
And air pressures
Envelope us in their
Cradle of
Unconcern, with a
Reprieve
From conversation
We are happy to see
Each other,
It’s enough
I brought the pencil sketch
Of a gothic cathedral
You’d drawn
And gifted me, in some
Other world, that yet
Held our youth behind its walls
Of mute airs and eyeless
Earth, raising its square chin
And thin, drawn lips,
Retelling nothing
Of what was
Shading causes the edifice to appear
As if it were leaning
Down,
Listening
I wanted you to know
I’d kept it, but
Never moved for my
Pocket, nor made mention,
Held fast by some gravity
Spell of hesitation, a dull
Stone, lodged
In my throat
I wonder if we fear
Such gestures
Quicken the inevitable
Endings, of our
Final gatherings
Shadows walk swiftly
Past the automatic doors,
Which open
Without acknowledgment
Or greeting
And I couldn’t shake the image
Of blood, so
Bright, upon stiff
White
Sheets, when I’d
Arrived, so
I focused
Instead, on your fingers
Holding
A cigarette
Smoke whirling like a house cat
Djinn
As it rose, orange sunset
Cherry, beneath the grey
Ghost
Char, tapping the
Off white
Butt,
Somatically,
As you spoke, or
Gazed
At nothing,
In particular
I follow the maze
Corridors of your lined
Knuckles
To their terminus,
Then start again,
Becomes a familiar
Tred
An occasional voice
Drones
On the overhead
Public address,
Monotone,
As some obtuse
Overseer
I couldn’t return home,
Not right away, so
I stopped by the ocean
Shore,
Couldn’t bring
What I didn’t say
Back
With me, so I brought it
There,
In the sun blasted
Sands, tucked
Conspiratorially,
Between my toes
And there,
I left
The cathedral
Sketch, folded
Neatly, beneath a smooth
Shell, the graceful
Sweep
Of its grain, so
Artful, both
Real
And unreal,
Here
Is not here,
Purposeful
And
Whimsical
I imagine someone finding it,
Carrying it off,
Into a brand new story
The sun places warm
Palms, against my
Upturned
Face
And I imagine you,
In another world,
With a smile,
Which holds
No boundaries
..
A Memory of Sunlight
By
Daniel Christensen
If partings begin to take
Their shape,
In our earliest moments
Together
Wind occasionally bends the
Downpour, toward
Us, lifts your
Age thinned
Hair, with phantom
Fingers
Caress
You look at everything
As if,
It may not be
Real,
Composed of some
Momentary
Whimsy,
Hanging beneath the
Hammer
Of some atmospheric
Thunder,
Moments before
A meteoric
Impact,
Lays waste to everything
Are there
Apparitions
In our sunlit revels,
Roots
In our laughter,
Lurking in the syrupy
Dregs
Of upended bottles,
Eyeing us, as we
Plod
Along
Our capers,
In blissful ignorance
It’s become odd
To see you dressed in
Anything, but the hospital
Gown, so sheer and inadequate,
No modesty
In its utility
Old clothes hang
Loose, have already
Forgotten
You, draped over
Skins, pinched with
Desiccation,
You’re already shrinking
Toward nothing
Cloud shadows creep across the
Manicured lawns, moisture
Glistening across their
Phalanx of sheer
Blunted
Blades
I wonder if this
Is what’s best
For us, muscles
Tense
And slackening, as we
Are milled,
Daily,
Within the perfect
Mathematical
Paradigm
Physics
Of nature
I wonder if dreams
Are a glimpse
Beyond
The illusory veil of space
Time
You reminisce of brighter
Days, half in the halogen
Light, half in
Haze
You remember everything
Slightly different,
Than I,
Makes me smile
It wasn’t long after that,
You died
Distant windows project
Mirrors,
Of darkened skies,
Roiling with unquiet
Atmosphere
The memory ends there, warps
And spreads a toothless
Mouth, engulfing
Everything in an unmoored
Void, like melted photographs
We left
As we fled
The flames, with nothing
But our lives
Rain holds a memory of
Sunlight,
Walks behind its gossamer
Curtains,
Carrying unspoken
Promise
There’s a flowerbed where we
Once stood, now
A medley of sounds
Odors
And air pressures
Envelope us in their
Cradle of
Unconcern, with a
Reprieve
From conversation
We are happy to see
Each other,
It’s enough
I brought the pencil sketch
Of a gothic cathedral
You’d drawn
And gifted me, in some
Other world, that yet
Held our youth behind its walls
Of mute airs and eyeless
Earth, raising its square chin
And thin, drawn lips,
Retelling nothing
Of what was
Shading causes the edifice to appear
As if it were leaning
Down,
Listening
I wanted you to know
I’d kept it, but
Never moved for my
Pocket, nor made mention,
Held fast by some gravity
Spell of hesitation, a dull
Stone, lodged
In my throat
I wonder if we fear
Such gestures
Quicken the inevitable
Endings, of our
Final gatherings
Shadows walk swiftly
Past the automatic doors,
Which open
Without acknowledgment
Or greeting
And I couldn’t shake the image
Of blood, so
Bright, upon stiff
White
Sheets, when I’d
Arrived, so
I focused
Instead, on your fingers
Holding
A cigarette
Smoke whirling like a house cat
Djinn
As it rose, orange sunset
Cherry, beneath the grey
Ghost
Char, tapping the
Off white
Butt,
Somatically,
As you spoke, or
Gazed
At nothing,
In particular
I follow the maze
Corridors of your lined
Knuckles
To their terminus,
Then start again,
Becomes a familiar
Tred
An occasional voice
Drones
On the overhead
Public address,
Monotone,
As some obtuse
Overseer
I couldn’t return home,
Not right away, so
I stopped by the ocean
Shore,
Couldn’t bring
What I didn’t say
Back
With me, so I brought it
There,
In the sun blasted
Sands, tucked
Conspiratorially,
Between my toes
And there,
I left
The cathedral
Sketch, folded
Neatly, beneath a smooth
Shell, the graceful
Sweep
Of its grain, so
Artful, both
Real
And unreal,
Here
Is not here,
Purposeful
And
Whimsical
I imagine someone finding it,
Carrying it off,
Into a brand new story
The sun places warm
Palms, against my
Upturned
Face
And I imagine you,
In another world,
With a smile,
Which holds
No boundaries
..
A Memory of Sunlight
By
Daniel Christensen
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