Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

something glows inside all of us

you were still when i found you so i picked up your body carefully,

as one would handle a crumbling manuscript from the thirteenth century,

with kids gloves – white vinyl gloves - and i placed you on my shoulders

and we walked and walked across great neon oceans

through cities with skyscrapers bearing over us like tidal waves of slate grey concrete

over searing hot sands that added thick, cauterised flesh to my feet

up and down the mist drenched mountains, through paddy fields and endless arable expanses

and through it all you never felt like a burden

your body , hardly a whisper, felt like a chiffon scarf

or maybe a faded star

then we reached the pristine hamlin pool and its stromatolites

and there i placed your frailty into the water

the bioluminescent ancients fell on your body,

found the tiny holes in you and filled you with light and warmth,

so much warmth that the blood returned to your jaundiced skin,

so much heat that the still water began to steam and hiss

and i cried then because somehow i knew it would be ok

and even as you opened your eyes and told me you had seen our lord

the glow faded and the air returned its chill

◄ death poem

don't breathe ►

Comments

Profile image

Martin Elder

Wed 8th Nov 2017 19:31

Love this Stu. It has something of a luminescence all of it's own. I am put in mind of the film Avatar for some reason for which I ma not really sure. But none the less it is beautiful

Profile image

keith jeffries

Sat 4th Nov 2017 19:03

Stuart, this is masterful. The descriptive nature of this poem will stay with me for some time. Well done. Thanks. Keith

Profile image

Stu Buck

Fri 27th Oct 2017 02:14

thanks all. lovely (and sometimes intriguing) comments as ever.

Profile image

Jon

Thu 26th Oct 2017 16:55

Hey Stuart
Wow! Amazing piece...reminds me of a science fiction movie somehow. Beautiful language and so imaginative.
Well done mate and thanks for recent comments on Remembering James.

Profile image

Cynthia Buell Thomas

Thu 26th Oct 2017 12:32

A symphony of sound, imagination and imagery. And thought. Thought must come first: no thinking - no need for words. And knowledge, actual knowledge incorporated naturally, pungently, directive-ly.

Oh, never mind - I'm not dead sure what I'm saying, but close.

Lan

Thu 26th Oct 2017 08:05

Stuart, you are a clever, clever man, this is fantastic,
Lan

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message