Memories...

I’d forgotten…
And it for a time it was bliss
Kissing air in your place
Faced impossibly blind
By waiting lines never clearer

Five feet ahead.
42 triangular planes of angled glass
Force that man past the edges, and ever nearer
To the beveled bind
Of my vanishing mirror

I never meet anyone there
And words I conjure Impair the
Tops of poems like these
For the wood, the forest, or the Fare
Is almost never in trees

And so, beyond a brief passing
After all that curious alas-ing
Pretending those words in the wood
Made a good bird’s better wings flare
Falls like ash where the boy once stood

The weight of the man, however slight
Is further fractioned by the flight.

lies

all lies.

Blind Eyes Blaze Like Meteors

And with a subtle wisp of chain, she quietly clanked into that dark corner of my history. Unburdened by loss, dangling a paper world of jagged scrawls and scribbles....onward to the next transparent heart. I'll just drift to the glow. She's got red hair, and an idle pen. More to shape the globe of us with touch, and not that.....artificial neon of the subterranean phantom. Not an amalgamation of fiction, not stained of the mouth, not vanished by the tiniest drops of reality. Not kept merely by the interval between a flicker of an eyelid, but by a promise. Locked in a sharp yank of blazing hair, and five compressed digits on a windpipe. In quiet moments, too, behind dirty glass blocking folded swells of lakewater. My pelican on the degas dock is fat with pride, and scowls into the cold wind with marble eyes, silently daring all to test this fire. I'll scoop them with all manner of food, and crush their rubber bones till the powder of their core layers the scene on our ocean, glowing opalesque in the current sun for a brief moment before becoming saturated by the brine of blue you love so well. Lost in the catalog of lies.

And with a decimal, he goes.

Minarets

Enter dawn, when our frozen sky
Streaks fire and burns into being
Where our only darkness comes to die
And light gives birth to seeing

Oh how the sands swell in the sound!
Would that it were not softly so
Yet a stellate glass of diamond ground
That led us to the glow

There, upon that uncertain dust
Inflexible eyes fixed on the gold
Her wings twitch, tied closed in the trust
Her heart would not unfold

But it was never so in dreams
Where her brightest tertails are free
Stretched wide in the filtered sunbeams
Reflected on the sea

She softened her stance in the thought
As her graceful hands traced through flight
Those distant clouds at last were caught
And married to the night

And just as that fragile dream came
So too its pallid foe made haste
Like a crackling shriek wrought from shame
It laid her wish to waste

Adhan echoed in the new air
And tightly bound her wings for threat
She may once fly, and dream, and dare
To destroy the Minaret

Enter Dusk, where our saddened sky
Burns, and fades to violet blue
Where "darkness" is the sun’s reply
When begged for lasting hue.





Our Landscape

I woke up in dewy grass, underneath a lavender sky. The palate was sprinkled with twinkling diamond stars suspended in particulate mist. I felt at peace. Slow waking movements. Blinking a lazy shutter with smiling eyes and opium bliss. I could finally draw a deep, satisfying breath.

“What wants he but to catch earth’s heedless sons and daughters.” I thought as I rose to my elbows. Yet just as the vision had clipped it’s instantaneously conjured memory, the grass turned to frosted Ice, and the pastel magnificence of that unknown beauty………vanished…. with a whisper. Barely known.

A low frequency boomed into life, and rattled through my chest. Like the growing bass that preceded some disastrous event. The lone tree in sight bled silver from its uppermost limbs, and shook all leaves. They fell as if cast away, and blasted to ashes before they were to ever reach the ground. The lavender mist swirled like a closing curtain, spiraling its glittering orbs toward a central point. Their speed increased, and once drawn toward the center were gathered to a single point of light amidst the absolute black, and obliterated in an unheard sphere of destruction. The blast wave multiplied as is rippled across the nothing, trailing bits of that happy sight as is disappeared into the vast void of incomprehensible distance.

I was alone. Yet, accompanied by my tree, I did not despair. For from their frozen enclosure, the roots of this lingering biological column pulsed faintly with the tiniest traces of ultraviolet hope.

I tilted my head just slightly askew, and wondered if I had imagined it. And then, as if forced into reality from my thoughts, streaks of black light traveled from its base, and along its ancient contours with a crackling electric sound.
I managed a smile, and seated myself on a patch of dead Ice. I leaned on my last little bit of hope, and fell asleep. Dreaming of that place, and that tree, and how everything had changed. Everything.

Digital Me

I played last night. Played until my fingers bled. Sang every song, every sorrow I've ever known, and washed this place of its horrible past, striking a new chord into a new path, with a new song, and a new beginning.

meridianfrost - text inquiry on the meaning of my youtube username.

"Meridianfrost means there is a danger in being indecisive. That when you grow old, all of your middle decisions will pile up with a kind of chilling, and regretful hindsight. Dare to take a side, and that reflection will be a series of momentary life experiences where we have failed, and succeeded. Or more appropriately, where we have learned and triumphed, instead of populating our thoughts with what we wished we had done. Seize YOUR day. Seize your life."


~meridianfrost