January rises in fantasies of magenta

Like a lustrous firework caught in an abandoned sky

Eroding frozen memories to glittering stardust

Forgetting midnight dreams in dazzling color

Reaching with stained hands for a stolen summer

Dancing through songs adorned in vibrant sunsets

Enveloped in thoughts that swirl like eternal music

Vivid hope blooming in fragmented souls

10 thoughts on “January

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  1. Each time I read one of your pieces I am astounded even more than the time before by your skill to portray vivid images with the most eloquent words. Please keep Inspiring.

    John (JMC)

  2. I love this. It reminded me of the prose song below, because of January in the title. It’s negative, but I relate to the lyrics. It’s interesting, sounds like a stream-of-consciousness writing, which some of yours sound like. Stream-of-consciousness writings are always interesting, as they are writing exactly as the thoughts of the writer come to him or her, without slowing down to edit them. They are often very abstract and highly creative. Any of your poems stream-of-consciousness writings?

    “January, 1979 saw a terrible crash (and couldn’t help but laugh.) My ear pressed against the pass like a glass on a wall of a house in a photograph. My forehead no longer sweet with the holy kisses worthy of your fiery lips. I was floating in a peaceful sea ‘rescued’ by a sinking ship. If I could become the servant of all – no lower place to fall. you watched me like a 10 car highway wreck with detached, vulgar curiosity. this looking down at the tops of the hats of us passers-by from your 7th story balcony… from such a height you missed the creatures too small for sight carry on covert conversation and the misguided insects crowned me their grasshopper king with a dance of celebration! after years with a crown on my head I’ve grown overfed, unconcerned, and comfortably numb kept busy indulging in pleasures of the wealthy (someone make me afraid of what I’ve become!) At the first sign of possible trouble I turned my heels and ran (Oh, I’ll never learn) my life is a cup of sugar I borrowed before time began and forgot to return, it was a matter of time – I always said I could see now I’m going blind, it was a matter of miserable time — but I heard somewhere there was a cure for useless eyes?”
    — mewithoutYou, “January 1979”

    1. Thank you for your thoughtful comment! I suppose some of my writings could be categorized as stream-of-concious-writing, but I usually like reading over each poem a few times before posting them so none of my poems are entirely void of edits.

      I like these lyrics, especially the line, “I was floating in a peaceful sea ‘rescued’ by a sinking ship.”

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