Postliminal

C.R. Dudley author Orchid's Lantern Press Blog

Everything is not
All is
Still
There is a ringing
In the air though
The bell was struck long ago

Now

A cold
Without harshness
A void
Without disappointment
And
A pregnant pause
Like a rollercoaster
Suspended
Poised to dive

Then

Breathe with me
Make the sounds
Vibrate the
I…
A…
O…
Echoes
Of the rhythm of life

And Finally

Nothing is
Nothing
Is not
Nothing
But
Postliminal

***

Fragments of Perception and Other Stories is now available in paperback and e-book! For the full blurb and purchasing options, please visit my books page.

Animus

An obscure little prose You have to build your difference, they say. 
You are divided for love. 
But I don’t know who you are. 
Do you know who I am? 
I can feel your fingers reaching out to me, 
so close to having material form it hurts 
like an unstruck sound in my heart.

You are surely a reflection, 
but when I look for you in the mirror 
the only me there is I. 
I project the idea onto all of my lovers,
trying to understand the shape of you, 
then when they are gone, I retract you
back into the darkness of shadow.

I saw you in the theatre last night. 
Three stages, three shows, three facets of you. 
I danced with each in my dreams.
You had raw, bleeding knees from the crawl;
an attempt to save yourself from fiction, no doubt.
But one tug on my necklace, one cry from within
and I knew the fall was real. 

Like Osiris

How do I write you?

Your essence is somewhere

between the scribbled words

on the mountains

of screwed up paper sheets

in which I nest.

Are you a jigsaw?

I try a word from one attempt

with a sentence from another

to draft a new layout,

an alternative frame;

but still I can’t complete you.

Like Osiris, you are in fragments.

I am Shotgun

image

Out of the post blue
I am shotgun
At your side
Recurrently

We are forever entangled
Though we never speak
Of the oath we once took
It just is

A constant companion
In the back seat
It is no longer armed
But we still allow it
To hijack us

Across the uneven
Ground we go
For days at a time
Far from other souls

This is dry land
There is no nourishment
Here
But we come anyway

And then we go
Until the next time
I am shotgun