Supermassive

My mother was a black hole,

Supermassive,

A star collapsed on itself

Built into something greater.

She existed at the center of everything

Terrible and lovely,

Shaping our tiny slice of the galaxy

In whatever way she saw fit.

I can see, now, that she could  not help but implode

Time and again,

Restructuring  herself each time with stolen bits of the lives around her.

This is the nature of everyday, ordinary lives,

Even if nature abhors a vacuum.

 

Drift

I went to the dock

Yesterday,

The one where we met.

 

It had gone to seed:

Cold and wet,

Nearly forgotten.

 

I could fix it up

Probably,

Replace the dead boards.

 

But that might ruin it,

this memory;

The thought of your smile.

 

You might look at me

and see air

drifting and empty.

 

I look at you and

see the sun

shining through the rot.

 

New Month, New Me

Hello, and welcome to the official spring-time!

I’ve been considering what to do with this now that I have very efficiently skulked away for a few months for school/general life. I enjoy writing reviews, and will certainly try to keep them up now that I have a bit of free time, but it occurs to me that as April is home to both NaPoWriMo and Camp NaNoWriMo, this is a fantastic chance to start posting actual work I’d like to share. If nothing else, the threat of others potentially seeing my progress is always good incentive to push me past procrastination.

So, starting later on today, I will be publishing at least one poem a day on here, as well as possibly snippets of my sci-fi/mystery literary child as it grows. Hopefully they won’t be too unpolished, but no promises.

If you are doing either challenge as well, come friend me! Or just link me to your blog, I’m always happy to suffer through the April/November writing trenches with others regardless of whether you’re officially participating or not.