Chances

The world is slow, turning through time.
Moonlight- luminous worm
Emptied into a distance,
Night sky empties its darkness
Into a you or me; a red sleep, I do not believe it.

The day is so poor suddenly,
Bare trees, a face, a mouth: black fingers in dirt
Ordering a growth in a cold earth;
The moles roar in my ears-
Echoes, echoes, am I a pulse?

I remember the minute, the wind was chilling
My face with its terrible look,
Coming at me with a meaning,
I saw the world in it- mean and dark,
Regarded me with attention.

And I said something, so dark suddenly,
Is this death coming at me?
It glided by- I felt the world in it,
I wasn’t ready for it. I had no reverence.
It touched me like a child carrying emptiness.

I have had my chances, all stitched into me
Like a rare organ; and I walked carefully
Like something scared; I thought too hard.
Looking through the thick dark perfect,
Jealous of anything- flattened soul.

I am dumb in my dead self, and it is sullen;
An eternity engulfs it; like a big sea,
It swallowed me like an instrument.
I should have murdered this- the horrors stand,
Licking corrosive rain. The dark earth drinks it.

I shall move, I cannot contain it;
My shadow is not a man: blunt, flat leaking
Into cracks- who will understand,
Who will love me? So predictable, so transparent.
Hands clasped, suddenly. I will recover.

Copyright © 12/06/18 lance sheridan®

Chances

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39 comments on “Chances

  1. Jyo says:

    Nice perspective and well penned !!

  2. Kat says:

    What a joy to read! Thank you!

  3. Beautiful words! Sad but also hopeful in a way.

  4. Nicely done. ❤️🦋🌀

  5. Anna says:

    Non siamo mai pronti per morire .Solo la vita può darci delle chance ,alcune magnifiche come l’amore . Serena notte ,Lance 🙂

  6. I read this poem three times; it’s so well done. In a way, it reminds me of Sylvia Plath — the images it conjures up. Specifically her “Ariel” and “The Moon and the Yew Tree.” But the final words are entirely unlike her.

  7. rabirius says:

    Excellent, again, Lance.

  8. I see frustration and jealousy in this poem, Lance. Frustration at yourself. even self-hate for feelings you cannot control and do not want. As always, your imagery conveys your intent magnificently. And, yes, comparing jealousy with possible death is truthful in that those unwanted emotions could result in the death of love. I see this as a powerful outpouring of anguish.

  9. If only we could make death glide by us by not having reverence for it.

  10. Aliosa says:

    Un poem de suflet ! 🙂
    Sincere felicitări ! 🙂
    Weekend liniștit dar frumos ! 🙂
    Alioșa ! 🙂

  11. Hermosa poesía.
    Un gusto poder leerte. Un saludo.

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