This blog will be put on hold until next NaPoWriMo, April 2012. Little scraps of writing will sometimes be posted in my main blog: [link] as well as my deviantART: [link]

So, farewell ‘til then!

elijahteitelbaum:

Something a little different from the type of poetry I usually write:

————

O, brave new world! How weary you do seem,

And in th’Elysian light how pale is your skin –

Like death you are, and not yet ripe your flesh

Is crack’d and torn asunder by a plague.

You reek of mortality’s scent;…

(Source: youjustyou)

‘Gulls Say It Best’ by Kneeling-Glory

Image source: [link]

It has been a long while since I first saw you trotting circles on those open grassy stretches; such a while that I wish to avoid counting the years. Instead, I will remember how the salty-sweet winds of the English Channel tugged my shirt sleeves and my pant cuffs with such insistence, towards you; the smooth blue sky of billowing clouds, flecked with swooping swallows; the sun,the high sun that filled the air around us with warm yellow light. You, your scruffy chestnut coat, your rough-shorn mane, and I do believe you had a lovely black star upon your forehead. Strange how easily your image comes back to me. As if you stood in the flesh before me now.

We spent that first day chasing the magpies around the grounds, the flocks of starlings. You displayed admirable agility and surefootedness upon those heights, especially for a horse. I recall clambering atop the cannons to gaze across the expanse of twinkling indigo blue; leaping back down and breaking into full gallop to the next. Your enthusiasm was limitless, on par to mine. You were my first pet since the unpleasant incident of the goldfish; I wonder if the poor sparrow counts too, who survived a week lying in a cardboard box in the living room, surrounded by bits of stale raisin bread? Nevertheless, I was enthralled; and though my stable would grow in the following months, I never tired of you.

I realize now, I never said a proper goodbye. We left the next spring, and though you trailed us for a few weeks, I left you for rust-coloured puddles behind the boatyard in Lagos, the black dog who sat placidly eating a pile of chicken bones, the fireworks display one rainy night; I did not notice your departure, nor the clatter of your little hoofs on asphalt as you trotted home. I imagine you now, grazing calmly; the sky, the sun, the air, brimmed with light, so much like the first day. How has life treated you? I hope your ribs are well-coated, your coat glossy; for no horse deserves it more than you, imaginary though you may be. You make sure you keep an eye on the place, will you? Keep it safe for the next time we’ll meet. Until then, my friend.

Love,
A Childhood Companion

p.s. Say hello to the magpies and the starlings for me. And the swallows too, if they have time to hear you.