Tags
Abstract, Black and White, Dark Humour, Death, Experimental, Music, Nature, Photography, Prose, Quotation, Swamp
“Will I always feel this way?
So empty, so estranged?”
– From the song “Empty” by Ray Lamontagne
Shadows spill in green tendrils across oiled waters. I probe the murky, moschate depths with a long, soggy stick. My hands are black and muddied. Reeds whistle beside me. A seagull mews somewhere far away. Minims of sweat glisten and drop from the end of my nose. I can taste the paracme, the tongue-slitting, nascent edge of the end.
A frog burbles to the vitreous surface. Two aurific eyes shimmer at me, bright as egg-yokes. With a gulp, they vanish. I can smell slime. My fingers balter through the mud. I am waiting. I am always waiting.
The sun spits in my eye and I turn away, longing for the tenebrous clouds of the foggy North to sidle down and cast me in a casket of embalming gloom.
I am addicted to desolation. I ache for darkness, cold and decay.
And then a cool wind finally came. Its chilled fingers ruffled my hair and it made the back gate moan plangorously against its flaking hinges. I reveled, I pranced, I forgot my little pain.
A mouse came in the night. He settled himself in a soft, grey ball beside my feet, nose nuzzling the coarse, back-door rug. I watched him take slow, solemn breaths, his sable eyes squinting, mordant. He died in the wash of a final sunrise that milked across a violescent sky, on the dawn of Halloween. Creatures come to me to die, sometimes.
The ants are burrowing into his raisin eyes, now. In a week or three, his tiny white mouse skull will be decoration on my desk.
There is always a glimmer through grief.
“Walk on down the hill
Through the grass grown tall and brown
And still it’s hard somehow to let go of my pain
On past the busted back
Of that old and rusted Cadillac
That sinks into this field collecting rain”
– From the song “Empty” by Ray Lamontagne
Each time I read your posts I feel like I have passed through a portal into another place… and that’s a good thing. I hold on to glimmers.
Thanks Rut, your comments are a pure delight. Thanks for your impressions, and for sidling by. Hope you are not too frozen-over there in the frosty approach of Winter. Keep grasping those glimmers!
Autumn Jade
You are welcome. Finding the glimmers in the chilly air.
I like your spooky, eerie vision of Halloween.
Haha thank you. I went a bit off-kilter, I think- rather a clumsy, anxious feel to it- suppose it is fitting to my mental state, ha- clumsy and anxious. How have you been? I trust you had a nice Halloween- I enjoyed your own spooky post.
Ebullient cheers,
Autumn Jade
So much to express about death
about feeling like an orphan
feeling like the last person on earth …
nobody can really understand
what we feel deep deep inside
leaving us always alone
on multiple levels
all the time
…
i look at them:
those thoughts
they always fade away
when the spider tickles my nose
or when that magpie looks me in the eye
long .. lasting seconds
leading
to freedom
sometimes for a minute
often for a day
As always, such wondrous sounds and captivating images.
Today, what struck most were the eyes, both of the frog and mouse. My goodness did I see them!
Beautiful images and your words open the door for the reader into the unknown…
“always a glimmer…” such captivating imagery you create. Gorgeous.
Reblogged this on From 1 Blogger 2 Another.
Heel knap beschreven
Dank je. You are very kind 😀
lovely ❤
Thank you 🙂