...from a partly deranged mind.

My name is James Bellamy, and I scribble things down. Often (if not always) when I'm supposed to be doing something else. It seems unlikely that the major publishers will be clamouring for my work just yet, so in the meantime, I'll self publish here...

Monday, 13 June 2011

Yearning

This is poem that I'm rather proud of - it's odd that I stick rigidly to a structure that I've decided on beforehand, but I was determined not to give up on it. So, 13,000 redrafts later, I'm finally happy that it says what I wanted it to, and rhymes and has the right number of syllables in each  line!


Yearning



From the dust to which we shall return,
A single glorious ember burns,
Animating sullen clay.
As like to like together yearns,
Impelled, the clay begins to churn,
Toward another husk it sways.
The longing’s strong, and yet to learn
Its solitude, so still it turns,
To usher outer dark away.

The sparks grow close, yet sep’rate stay,
Divided by encumbering clay,
Which flows with longing brotherhood.
They mold as closely as they may,
Aligning tighter day by day,
Shared passions as a second blood.
Rebellious fire burns away
In unison, they bow and pray
For ending of their solitude.

Starlight

Sorry for the long delay between posts - other things to do, you know how it goes. This poem makes use of an idea that'd been kicking around in my head for a while, and I'm still not entirely happy with the title. Any suggestions would be welcome.


Starlight



Struggling up, bent double, the hill that leads home,

The chill in the sky settling into my bones,
I scan the way carefully for patches of ice.

Skidding and slipping, and losing control,
Progress is tentative, tortuous and slow,
Coldness and misery deaden the soul.

The handles of the bags cause my knuckles to ache
With curious burning, as wind pinches my face,
Grounded in the weaknesses of flesh.

My downward-case vision, scouring the ground
Take in crystals of ice scattered around,
Coruscating in place as I move.

My perspective is changing – I come to a halt;
The strange constellations between the rock salt
All discomforts and achings forgetting.

As the mind’s focus alters, I seem to fall forward,
Moving through the asphalt to the glittering starfield,
Drifting through burnished infinity.

Unanchored I soar through endless starshine,
Exulting in absolute freedom, for a time,
Transcending my fleeting frailty.