It smells like sandalwood and fresh plastic,
Distantly cooked dinner and day-old wine.
The pants are soft and cotton, poor in design
To mimic some casualness not easily obtained.
Wooden slats interrupt vision and concrete,
Break up the blowing draft riding the back of ethereal
Music edging into the territory of lost notes.
.
This world is cold, this floor is ice.
The emotion is not absent but frozen solid.
Sharp and willing to bite, slice, slide.
The fireplace is a farce, just flickering glass
Spreading its warm, vented fingers throughout.
All over, honey light glows from glass portals
Glows in the empty black expanse of field.
.
There is a murder inside, a slaughter on the concrete.
Bare feet pad across splintered glass.
Eyes fog with the cast of day-old poison,
Left at the bottom of a cup to infect his thoughts.
There is something in the distance, some toxic blue dream
Of slanted roof and false wood boards, of blood and tears and lives,
That only he and his deadened eyes can see.
About the Creator
Silver Serpent Books
Writer. Interested in all the rocks people have forgotten to turn over. There are whole worlds under there, you know. Dark ones too, even better.
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Letter to our Queer & Trans Youth
Hey, you. I thought I’d start this letter by telling you a little about myself, just so you know who you’re dealing with. I’m an emotional dad, father to three amazing kids who we met through the foster care system, and whose presence in our lives has really transformed my sense of responsibility to the communities that surround us. The connections we’ve made with one another, with our extended families, and with the communities where we live and look for belonging have catapulted us into this whirlwind of emotional tumult which, while not easy by any stretch of the measure, has also been remarkably healing. I realize ours is really only a one-sided chosen family, since our kids didn’t get to choose to live here, but I’d like to think that they did choose to let us love them, which allowed them to grow to love us. And I think that’s where I want to go with this letter- to a place where you can find belonging and healing- even if the pathway there may be peppered with some emotional tumult.
By F Cade Swanson6 days ago in Pride
Comments (6)
The abundant imagery in this is so rich! Completely infiltrates the senses! What a well crafted piece, Silver! So many good lines! I can’t pick a favorite but “The emotion is not absent but frozen solid.” was just a brilliant extension from the powerful sensory details!
Such amazing descriptive detail as always!
So many feelings displayed wonderfully! Great poem!
Oof—yes! This was so well executed, so infused with emotion. I love it!
Wow! You called it - SNAP!!
Oh damno...so much to love about this - this whole damn section, crikey - This world is cold, this floor is ice. The emotion is not absent but frozen solid. Sharp and willing to bite, slice, slide. The fireplace is a farce, just flickering glass Spreading its warm, vented fingers throughout. All over, honey light glows from glass portals Glows in the empty black expanse of field. Exceptional work as ever, Silver. Well done!