Other Place

Feb 3, 2008, 2:21:30 PM by ~BethlehemLights
Literature / Poetry / Philosophical / Open

In the infinitesimal spaces between moments,
I caught, with unsteady fingers, a gap,
And tore a doorway as yet unfashioned
To that other place of greyness;
Clasped my heart and felt it
Caught my breath and held it
Until I, with pregnant apprehension,
Onto that shadowed plain alighted,
Drew lines of substance on the sand,
And illuminated the galaxy.
As I looked around in that enchanted deepness,
Pondering the precepts that brought me
To this wilderness so far from thought,
I fell, lay a while in wonder,
And died.

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Newest Deviations

Hurricane Weather Fingernail picking at the closet mine
Til' it hits the backroom's filthy swine
And finds those old racks filled with leather;
It leaves a trail that stinks to high
And sticks the throat like hurricane weather—

In that sleepy, sweetly sticky land of language crimes
Where half-filled glasses bide their time
Imprisoned speech dragged to nooses,
With words no one uses
And the fools that bruise it
can't blanket abuses
with rhyme.Hurricane Weather by ~BethlehemLights

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Upon Waking I am dreadfully aware of how long I've been asleep.
The back-and-forth motion of this joyride
Has jarred my subconscious;
And though my pupils remain dilated,

so that all is light and all at once,

I am desperately aware
of how awake I've yet to be.Upon Waking by ~BethlehemLights

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Swallowmarks There was no difficulty in gauging your trails:
I stared onto your peak like all Olympus;
knew the pitfalls that would snag my heels,
the way my chest would beg for mercy.
Soaked your chill as I played the markhor,
grappling the distance between us with
footsteps slow
and wrists acquiver,
cold for lack of handhold.

I saw the way before me clear
like a red sea of frost and stone;
I unclench my chattering teeth,
rub some splint of warmth back to my bones,
shake the frostbite,
ripping off like petrified bark coming undone.

I find it telling,
the pattern of swallowmarks across my throat,
the way my feet sink into the snow;
anSwallowmarks by ~BethlehemLights

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Psalms Eulogized Ockham never fashioned a razor
that was a guillotine for gods and faeries:
little hopes kept the arrow blunt—
and the blades well-greased for a final cut.
Such hopes might have once saved us from our apathy
such delusions might have saved us from inadequacy;
but as far as filthy winds go,
you were a breath of fresh air.

Now it is clear: reason alone
cannot dispel the single-celled labyrinths
and the combined weight of a moral nothingness—
the holy ghost unsettles my nights
like tree branches creeping over windows,
like closet monsters stealing across the floor,
whose frequent visits I have accepted
as pale glances Psalms Eulogized by ~BethlehemLights

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Devious Journal Entry

Mar 8, 2008, 10:03:09 AM by ~BethlehemLights
Journals / Personal

Mood: Neutral
Listening to: SIRIUS Satellite Radio - Hard Attack
Reading: Don Quijote de la Mancha

Well, here I am. And still alive, seeing as we had a tornado warning at school yesterday. It had been raining like hell all through the morning, and raining hard. But by 10:00 it had begun to really pick up, and the power went out for a while. I was right in the middle of changing classes when I heard the warning. Yes, we all had to go into the halls and back up against the walls. I have doubts about the effectiveness of that technique, but then again, I'm no safety expert. I was disappointed because I didn't get to see the tornado (and I've never seen one myself), but I was told later that it never came close to the school anyway. It kept on raining well into the afternoon, then stopped sometime in the evening. And this morning, I was greeted by gusts of wind pounding the roof, bending the trees right by our house. I'd like to meet the bastard who thought it'd be funny to call this permanent weather disaster the "Sunshine State." ...Peace out. --Bethlehem Lights

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