20 Lines A Day

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Tag Archives: darkness


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single ray of light

a single ray of light in the dark room,

static at a particular straight line,

never moving, always staying there,

just fading when approaches the twilight,

and disappearing with onset of  night,

 

making an appearance yet once again,

as sunlight comes through a new day,

faint at first, but reclaiming its shine-

the single light ray in the dark room,

 

where there exists nothing else but

a penetrating darkness all around,

isolated away from life and living,

where the only play is that of the light,

which comes by everyday, day after day-

the single ray of light in the dark.


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As darkness falls

One is six, the other three years old.

It’s been a busy day and they are tired,

but not tired enough to give in.

Now, there is a feeling of renewed energy

as they realise it’s growing dark.

There is a moon

and a few stars have appeared.

Christmas lights are beginning to twinkle.

It is not Christmas yet.

Not for weeks.

It’s only the garden centre

in advertising mode

dressing itself up

showing off its new seasonal wares.

The two boys

don’t care.

For them,

now,

in the dark,

watching the lights,

Christmas has begun.


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Stars

Come rescue me, o stars. Lead me away
from tears that blot my face because of grief,
from all the darkness at the end of day.

I choose embroidery or appliqué
to decorate my afternoons, gold leaf
like stars that rescue me, lead me away.

I need you so this angst won’t ricochet.
Come take my hand, give me your handkerchief
to wipe the darkness from the end of day.

Within this mud of grief I feel cold clay
surrounding me, and beg for your relief.
Come rescue me, o stars. Lead me away

and help me find a place where I can play.
I find this sorrow anything but brief,
know well the darkness at the end of day.

How long will grief hang on? Please, be passé.
I wait to stand firm on a new belief
to rescue me. O stars, lead me away
from all the darkness at the end of day.


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A Rispetto

How interesting to see that I’ve been writing many these, but with a slightly different rhyme scheme. They go abab ccdd. Anne, I think I’ll use your topic, if you don’t mind.

My Brain

With all its neurons doing what they should,
my brain stays wide awake and in the light…
unless, that is, a seizure draws a hood
of darkness down. Then all things turn to night.

I love to use my brain and use it well,
but hate when seizure throws it into hell.
Most times it functions in the brightest sun,
although I’m never sure what I have won.


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Storm

This morning rain and all its friends,
the thunder and the lightning spark.
At ten AM the skies, still dark,
are rent by gusting wind that bends

the guiltless pines to twisted shapes.
Deep rumbles thunder inside me,
reminders that I am not free.
A seizure wraps its woolen capes.

Note: I just posted this poem on my blog Brainstorms, where I thought it would be appropriate. However, I made a few small changes. Which do you like better, the 20 Lines version or the Brainstorms version?

 


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Will you…?

Need I pass away to find a new world ?

Because I decay, your voice is unheard,

And I’m lead astray by my easiness,

Instead I should pray for some forgiveness…

But my wounds linger as I don’t take care

Of my old body, though I am aware

Of my condition and of my weakness,

That’s my complexion and that’s my darkness.

I need a new life in this space and time,

Not a new excuse, not a waste of time !

Will you follow me on the alleyways

Of my twisted path on these fragile days ?

Antoine Burgos

 


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What I Seek!?

Finding the way through the darkness,

that dwells on the street,

Finding that ray of light in the dark,

that hides within the corners of the street.

Looking for it, I get distracted by the darkness,

which attracts me,

And get side-tracked from the light,

which will end all my agonies.

 

This way is so difficult,

The path to light, unknown, untouched.

I do not know what I seek-

The magnificent darkness which surrounds me,

or that ray of light hidden, yet to be found.

I seek to know what I seek and that is all,

That is all I seek, I want to know,

to know what I seek, what I want.


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The Small Petite Woman

A small petite woman walking in the darkness,

Passing by the lights of the city which she considers a mess.

She has left it all behind- the power, the glory,

She is tired of framing her own life’s story.

Frustrated with her acts that she so dubiously played,

She now walks alone, her hair no longer tied in a braid.

Losing the sense of this world, she wants to be who she really is,

She has said goodbye to her past with a gentle kiss.

She is just starting to accept her real self with no pain,

She is walking in the darkness with no strain.


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Night

The miracle of the night,

Its darkness, so bright.

I am immersed in the shine,

My desire being my whine.

This night is different,

As its affect is so vibrant.

I want to glow this night,

Even if it is not right.

This night is seductive,

As well as obstructive,

Towards the deals I have for tomorrow,

But if I sleep, I would go into deep sorrow.

I want to live this night,

This night so bright.


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Womb

Circular Darkness.
Deep within lies our soul’s container.

Our wombs hold our dreams and the cosmic artwork we will call forth.
Tied to the moon a cycle of death and rebirth occurs within us in intervals of 28.
We must love our womb and all that it can create.
The seat of our soul, the womb is eternity within our flesh

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Maggie asks- What kind of light would you be? Here I answer-

If I could ever have been a light,

And supposedly saying If I were a light,

I would have wanted to be the one,

And supposedly, I would have been the one,

Shimmering, lightening the darkness,

Which so perpetually has had become,

A part of my existence.

It might sound selfish,

But this is how everything is-

The light, the darkness and me.


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Moonlight

Which kind of light to be? I’ve said
“moonlight.” Now why, indeed? The red
of sunset’s glow washed over beach,
and darkness crept within my reach.

Illuminating moonlight comes
through inky, pitch-black skies, and strums
its haunting tune on night’s guitars.
Protection of the moon and stars

surrounds me in this field of flowers.
Stars, moonlight, field of flowers? All showers
that rinse off daytime’s residue,
preparing to make all things new.


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living a dream

Wondering  back I get blind by thought , peeping

Dread is my neighbor , always watching , leaping

Grieving souls are flooding my conscious day, creeping

Quicksand around me , it covers my feet ,seeping

Can’t move , can’t breathe , I continue ,  weeping

I want to be normal , I want to be bland , feeling

Moving forward , looking ahead , dreaming

I’ll pray for his help , I’ll look for the future , gleaming

 

 

 

 

 

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