Sleepless night

My bed is a bottom of the ocean.
My head is a wreckage,
a basket of bones.
Rare fish, like thoughts, pierce in and come out
and long thin seaweed hovers above.

© Irena Revina

Photo: Unsplash

 

 

Advertisements

A jar inside my heart

I want to OWN YOU with your keys and other possessions.
There will be no traces of YOU left.

I want to push YOU down into a jar inside my heart.
YOU will rattle every time I make a move,
And I will jump and jump just to hear YOU sound.

Sometimes, I will take YOU out again into the warmth
And I will knead you into a fine bulky loaf,
I will add some nettle and beat root for real blood and veins.

But for most of the time,
YOU will continue to live in a small chamber
And I have many chambers for these sorts of things.

© Irena Revina

Photo: Stux on Pixabay

All Souls Night

On 2nd November the sky flips over,

gives stage to candles, no more stars.

The lights join the pathways,

from breath to breath drawing star constellations  –

Perseus, Virgo, Cassiopeia, Libra and others.

 

Behind the iron wrought fence

sheltering the graves from the main road

souls are lined up in a solemn oath

practising a march to silent drum.

One of them fell out of line,

another glances down longingly.

 

I walk from our house along the creek,

my breath tamed by the chill showing me the way.

The cemetery sits just under Ursa Minor,

my uncle’s grave is holding its foot.

I lit the first candle – is he a Saint yet?

Is he a wondering Soul?

or is he an In-Between.