◊ Joy ◊
“Are the clouds of any flavor?”
I no longer will have to wonder;
For now, and onwards,
I float in their embrace
From place to place, and then another.
The stars are at my fingertips
Asking to be rearranged.
◊ Sorrow ◊
Two hearts meeting
Mine, and the earth’s.
My ribcage full of marble stone;
Sinking like a massive anchor.
A dim pulsar that lost direction.
My wings are burnt;
My words have left.
◊ Anger ◊
White-hot embers
Burning a hole through the heavens.
Uncareful and ignorant;
Creating boundless clouds of noise.
Where did it go, my voice?
Don’t say the demons used
My negligence to steal it!
◊ Fear ◊
A multitude of possiblities
Overwhelm my racing heart.
Sudden, tenacious debilities,
Impeding my time and space.
Language evaporates, into a cloud.
I try to follow the path, still unerased;
Futile attempts of mimicry.
(Joy-related) A/N:
J. M. Barrie, in his famous tale of a boy who never grows up, revealed that fairies never say “we feel happy”; what they say is “we feel dancey”. The drawing I chose for “joy” was an illustration for this story. I hope you feel dancey, now or very soon, dear reader.
Artwork is all Arthur Rackham’s.
SingulariT 