Friday Nite Poetry: Connections

White Hole

White Hole (Photo credit: coofdy)

As long time readers are aware, I occasionally get hung up on my hopeless singledom. I won’t say it invades my every thought and usually I can go weeks, even months without stressing about it. Last night was not one of those times however. Hence this weeks poetry.

As always, I will remind  you of my fundraiser. I would love to be able to pay the bills by bringing you wonderful folks the best that I can. And now I give you your weekly verse:

Long Division

Made anxious
by our lack of unity
that distant and remembered dream
of all places and moments at once

We scramble
we chase any connection
that can be made in speech and touch
such brief return to our true selves

This fissure
within and between ourselves
widens with every missed opportunity
with every misunderstanding and departure

Still we try
we can do nothing other
it is the only path to inner peace
given to us in the endless turmoil of division


A kings feast in front of you
and still it is never enough
while off to the side whimpering
I die slowly of starvation

Keep gorging yourselves
right before my bloodshot eyes

Keep moving
from table
to table
fingertips clawing into plates
teeth tearing
throat and belly swollen
with another’s meat

And whatever else you do
don’t eye that hungry dog
curled up in the corner
don’t acknowledge anyone
could go so hungry
lest you lose your place
at the banquet

White Hole

Inexorably it grows
this white hole
within me
pushing everything
every last iota
of matter
of energy
of meaning
away from me

It makes it hard
to see the light
it pushes that away too
though I know it is there

I know and love
the wonder of it all
I know and love
the struggle for justice
I know and love
that others get to love
but more and more
every day
the knowledge is pushed
ever further away


One thought on “Friday Nite Poetry: Connections

  1. Pingback: Friday Nite Poetry: We’re Still Doing This, Right? | Hand of Ananke

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