This is how you make them:
Gather the chemicals
The kernels which will grow into galaxies
When you fuse story and schism
When you hook loss to lust
When you strike match to tinder
This is how you move them:
Cloak the assemblage as
Another failure fruited from banality
After the betrayal has broken
After the promise has perished
This is where you place them:
Bring the device to the lost temples
Where the old cherub-gods
Have been long starved off sacrifice
This is where you leave them:
In the epicentre of our unwarned equilibriums,
Unprepared for dreaming fire
This is when things fall apart when galaxies unfold with bright violence when the
When the gasping hungers finally grip into each other this is when-
The past few weeks, I have always been posting old poems written for Singpowrimo earlier this year. This weekend I challenged myself to write poetry again, reflecting on the events of past weeks.
I realised my writing has always been melancholy and wistful, so this time I challenged myself to write a love poem. I haven’t written a love poem in awhile. This poem is as fresh a creation as it gets…although I confess the result is still a little melancholy and wistful.
I wanted to write a poem about the volatile uncertainty of new loves and obsessions. You taste the sweetness, but at the back of your mind you cannot help but know with a foreboding uncertainty this ecstasy cannot last. You wonder about the coming storm, you fear for this consuming happiness. I wanted to write about the dark, breathless flame of desire in its earliest burst.
A poem written in 45 minutes over a $3.50 espresso at the National Library, 9pm-ish after a whole day struggling to find an image-anchor. Saturday 14 August 2016