My ghost of us strides upon the heath,
unrequited, I’m stained hungry with regret
steps cover the discarded, morning mist
with fast feet leaving not a print
on the shards of blasted bedrock,
heaved hard, my breast of bramble
wild and untempered, feral love,
once your attention had tamed,
wild again wants what it wants
unsatiated — nothing — takes it.
Like children rolling in the tall grass
we fell into each other
golden seeds, feathered sheaves
swallows diving through a robin blue sky
a brook washing pebbles smooth,
a melting spring, sweeping the grass,
kissed with the budding love of a pussy willow
brushed upon my hot blushing cheek
my heart beats felt upon a whispered promise
always, love, never gone, always in the sun above.
Revenge and hatred swallowed you whole
a storm laid waste to our meadow —
I thought you loved me
why do you push me away?
Like the wind against the heather, leaning
from the trees, you left me alone,
I just wanted you — and you pushed — away
bending, spreading against her branches,
I will tear away her leaves, make barren,
drown her thirst in a river’s drink.
Our story is hyperbole —
a bursting chemical reaction
Inert — apart — together — formed
explosions — particles — cast away
your heat, warm in a moment upon the moor
lost upon the white cliffs — I am caught
captive to your greed, enslaved by avarice
with fire inside my desire, I am ablaze
inexhaustible, my passion burns
my life, ash into dust upon your lips.
I wail like a ghost song
your voice in the cavern of our youth
left long ago, echoes with our love,
reverberates in my head
I am haunted by what we had
you are my Northern Lights,
dancing, dazzling in the distance,
I reach for your singing colours
a rainbow I could never follow
you ended with the snow.
Come to me, my harmony,
let me be your fairy trance
follow my notes across the heath
chase my melody over the cliff
like a firefly into the peat
catch my fire upon a midnight ship’s horizon,
record my song of siren’s love,
I will protect you from the raven’s shriek
you’ll be safe — in my river’s voice, listen,
pressed to the window, hold my hand.
I could have been your every season
my sturdy stand of timber
make you swell over the sky
my verdant hero, a crown
I would have placed upon your temper
but I will split you like lightning
into slivers I can hold — weeping, I
press you into my withered flesh
like a lilt into an Irish song, together
we’ll shiver with the flame frozen in ice.
Submitted as part of “National/Global Poetry Writing Month” (#NaPoWriMo #GloPoWriMo).
Today’s prompt: Day Three: “Today, It’s a Spanish form called a “glosa” – literally a poem that glosses, or explains, or in some way responds to another poem. The idea is to take a quatrain from a poem that you like, and then write a four-stanza poem that explains or responds to each line of the quatrain, with each of the quatrain’s four lines in turn forming the last line of each stanza. Traditionally, each stanza has ten lines, but don’t feel obligated to hold yourself to that!”
I took my inspiration from Kate Bush’s “Wuthering Heights,” working with her first stanza here:
We’d roll and fall in green
You had a temper like my jealousy
Too hot, too greedy
How could you leave me
When I needed to possess you?
I hated you, I loved you, too”
30 Poems in 30 Days
All text and photography © Dale Schierbeck
…. more of my original Poetry on EatsWritesShoots here.
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