the writings of blake ellington larson

Category: 2015: shadowed poems

my thoughts are all but colorwise

sadness, though

shone like a rainbow

when you called

grief is not guilt

it is not malice

it is love

pure love

 

silence

waits for no one

save the horses

save the world

celebrate everyone

you know

who you are

celebrate everything

you know

who you are

my spirit is the avalanche

keeps me covered

yr spirit is the blanket

keeps me covered

sometimes, when I dive into you

it’s like breathing under water

but, most of the time

in life and in death

come wander with me

the Salvage King

you and I

forever in search

of calm

if horses were feathers

I’d make a raincoat

out of the songs

you left behind

art is process

save

everything

yr songs make the rain in my heart

real

the sky is beautiful

I wish you were her

I was sick with love

made like a balloon

I drifted to sidewalks

where she found me

the difference between life and death is

I get to swallow you

dear dark

it is not yr crimson glow

draws me to yr furnace

I am not

breathing for you

I am not trees

not the feet

you will meet

I am not my heart

it’s you

yr steel thunder

is the marsh mellow

to my silver lining

I’m thinking backwards

I’m looking forwards

to you

I don’t play with fire

anymore

dear dark

I am not your foldboy

this is not laundry-town

I have a bus ticket

yr spirit

is the pinata

that hangs in the breeze

and someday

yr candy

will shower me

the inside words

say little of the wind

and the dew

and you

and i

when i sleep

you are still alive

warranted, you

arrest me

pooh bear and i

didn’t suck our thumbs forever

we were playing the long game

on stage and in private

we had each other’s scratchy backs

as they say

but

one of us got caught

one of us

with their hand in the honey pot

singing

the whole time

my skin is all over the place

like a baked lemon on a soft day

like a persimmon

in the neon sun

used to write poems on postcards

in the dark of the porch

staring at that photo of us

sitting in the sun

yr in my clouds

and my thoughts are clouds

and so are you

you can’t just press a leaf and hope it dries

it has to live a little

it has to know the sun’s heat

there will come a time when someone

will ask you

what is this dried for?

you have it so neatly displayed

is this the smell of comfort?

are you a time traveler?

have you been sent from

a half-dream

blinded by light?

do you know what year it is?

who is our president?

what color am i holding?

all i need is

a blank stage of postcard paper

a stack of some thirty ought six

or whatever

i need to make notes

this apocalypse is killing me

we had to take her car

’cause you were gone

and we couldn’t find you

i remember walking the train tracks

for no reason

we were so worried

we had to take her car

your ghosts are pillows

i didn’t intend

my spindly limbs

all aimless and free

thinness and air

dew and bark

strong

in the wind