Gorge

It’s a rocky cliff to overlook
when evening’s still so glum,
when the darkness whispers that this life
is too much to overcome.
That precipice may scare you
when you’re tired and poorly shod,
though throughout the day you cling
steadfastly to your god –
I’ve seen your withered, beating heart
ascend these fearful heights
and bravely keep a lookout through
the storms of these long nights.
Stay true to what the daylight speaks
into your quiet soul,
for though the night feels long and dark,
time still takes its toll –
be patient with eyes skyward,
for this night will soon have passed,
and you’ll find yourself across this gorge
and continue on at last.

©K Paige Medina 7 December 2017

via Daily Prompt: Gorge

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Waking

I wake alone in foggy lands,
untouched anew by lonely hands,
and whisper into earless nights
the secrets of my fitful geist–

(and speaking now with wand’ring tongues
from unfamiliar depths have sprung
these fathomless and foreign springs
that breathe their mists o’er ev’rything)

–and back they hiss in slyer tones,
to sleep and not to wish for home,
for home is but a distant Waking–
an upheaval of thund’rous shaking–
and lonesomeness, like starry skies,
is full to bursting with goodbyes.

Heady silence strangles thoughts
and twists my dreams all into knots
but when dawn breaks I shield my head
from the shattering of words unsaid–

(spiderwebs burdened with morning’s tears–
but mornings catch whispers and expose them as fears)

–and steel myself for the Waking hour
when silence holds a different power.

 

©K Paige Medina 09 October 2017

Glass

Could once it have been perfect,
a moment yet to spend,
astride a sleeping, peaceful hill,
unfamiliar still with ends?
Is ignorance so peaceful,
that storms must stay so far away
that even unperturbed tranquility
should these flimsy hearts assay?

I have not long been walking here,
though fond yet have I found
the world of pain and calumny,
and hearts too often flayed and ground.
Is it blissful then to sit alone,
untouched by loss or love,
and still to breathe, though fearfully,
lest one from this gentle perch be shoved,

And tumble down to rougher scapes, where fire and fury find
as plentiful a purchase as in calmer, simpler minds.

 

©K Paige Medina 26 August 2017

Stone

I dreamed once of a little child
Whose name was that of stone,
And for all I’ve ever felt alive
That child has felt alone.
We’ve wandered long, two specters twinned
Up to the gates of hell,
But for all our silent, ghostly looks,
I could never really tell
If that child followed in my wake,
A lonely phantom saint,
Or whether it was I who trailed,
Sullen, bruised,
likely to faint.

I get the feeling he has walked
Much farther yet than I,
Yet wander on I know he must —
Little longing yet to die.
So let us go then he and I
Into that depth of place
That stops as suddenly as a fall
In his ghastly childish face.

©K Paige Medina 28 June 2017

Unsnuffed

There is an element of sparkle
In the sputtering of flames;
In the moment of extinguishing
Fire yet spits forth her names,
Affirming in the moments when
Ceasing seems most true
The lightness of her being before
Life’s final adieu.
And I guess that’s how it feels
In the company of night
When I’m drowning in my failure
And something deep within me lights
And burns an angry rebel spark
That glitters into being
The forgotten words of truth that
Send my fears and regrets fleeing,
And for a moment yet I’m strong
And whole and ready for one more,
Alit within with stubborn sparks still
Glowing in my core.

©K Paige Medina 25 April 2017

A Time to Rest

I think it’s time I put to bed
the crawling things inside my head–
the tigers prowling in the night,
that gurgle waiting for a fight;
the dragons hissing in the seas
that spew half-truths sinisterly;
my poisoned sirens singing hate,
who love to drown and loathe to wait.
I’m made of monsters seething low
who strangle hope and cannot go
alone into their wicked nights,
so I must with them fly or fight.
A cursed gift to me they’ve been
weighty in their depths of sin;
yet mine alone to carry are
these monstrous, heavy, broken scars.

Yet light still shines its fragile beams
through unfilled cracks and weathered seams.
I cannot let these monsters go,
but may find peace in light’s halo
while sleep o’ertakes these devils mine
as daybreak crests its stubborn shine.

Not over yet, this fight I face,
but quieter in dawn’s embrace,
I too must rest from bitter pain
To wake, and then to fight again.

©K Paige Medina 31 March 2017


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The Land of Mornings

I live in a land of mornings,
where the fog stays low and wild,
and the history is permanent
in the eyes of every child.
It is here that there are windows
peering out on gloomy streets,
And the heaviness of evening
is when star-crossed lovers meet.
Our emptiness is welcomed–
as the empty always are–
by the cold arms of old cities
bearing streets and lights and bars.
It’s the romance of a moment,
but these moments seldom stay,
lingering too long at thresholds,
only then to steal away
with the radiator heat
trailing after crunching soles,
it taps on windows, begging
to be let in from the cold.
But be careful when you let it,
for the walls remember still
shadows of moments past
left to freeze out on the sill.

© K Paige Medina 12/17/2016

The Breach

I fell asleep in no-man’s-land,
With flower petals in my hand.
Above my head an orange sky
Blows angels’ flight paths all awry.
We fell in love like dreamers do,
with sound and fury and ado.
We pinned ourselves to each other’s breast
And let the world do the rest.
We held our hands with spiky smiles—
Secrets, intrigue, lovers’ wiles—
Our paths were bound to wander down
Into each wasted bitter town,
And crest again those wanton shores,
And leave us always wanting more.
Alone I sleep, till some long hour
When I’ll restore this broken flower
Once more to that dear breach I sought
To lose once more the battles fought.

© K Paige Medina 9/5/2016

Capsized

We walked into each other
Like the sea touching the sky–
Full of hopeful purpose
Without ever asking why.
We were lovely then and braver
Than we thought ourselves to be,
With the wind behind us beckoning
Us toward a soft and simple sea.
It wasn’t that we somehow stopped,
Or ever once awoke
And saw our lives a dismal thing
And the sea a vat of smoke;
But rather that we both pressed on
Though clouds heaved storms and rain,
Refusing to see the hardened lines
Ground deep into our veins.
We swore our oaths like sailors who,
Upon encountered gales,
Bark out their words to steel the sea
And make winds fit to sails.
But there never fonder captains were
Than we two once had been,
As, struggling toward horizons yet,
We succumbed to the ocean.

Our sailors’ cries still haunt the waves
Of my soul’s restless seas–
Yet heartsore from the bitter winds,
Yet shipwrecked, yet I find ease.

©8/1/2016 K Paige Medina

The Last Few Days

Did I give up love
For this arranged marriage,
This stranger,
Cackling,
Broken,
Embracing me with her fear?
What, then, is love
If in the midnight throes of this
Strange body’s upset,
I suddenly feel myself discovered,
Bound up in a mistress
Who is myself
And my wife,
Who is not any of us?
This dark thing,
A creature of my own design,
Brought to life by the echo
Of my own discontent.
Villain of my own heart,
Harpy with my voice,
Must I love you?
Claw out my eyes and make me profess your beauty.
For I am but a soul adrift
In the vastness of your witchery and theft,
Beckoned, drowning,
Down
Into the hell of your heart.

The golden light of longing
In the dark of discontent
Has led my feet too many times
From the path for which they’re meant.
The call of something better
From beyond a wayward turn
Sets my heart to promises
And my restless feet to burn.
It’s the strange impossibility
Of hope beyond defeat
That keeps me walking forward
Towards mirages in the street.
You called yourself a prophet
But the harder task is still
To calm my heart to silence
Through sheer force of will.

Romantic though the thought may be
To wander on forever,
There never was a lonelier road
Than this, stretched, ending never.

It’s the fire knowing it is not the smoke.
It’s like all the yeses in the world saying no.
It’s being all alone at night
And saying this is still alright,
That’s called home.

We’re just shadows of ourselves, darling.
We sit and stare at the beginnings of ourselves.
And when we look into the sky
And we’re only asking why
When we’re waiting for the answers
Then we’re home.

It’s like watching the rain
And seeing oceans.
It’s like when we laugh and all we hear are tears.
All the patience that we’ve given,
All the faults that we’ve forgiven,
Are we moving toward the end
Or are we home?

Don’t tell yourself you’ve never been in love.
Don’t wait because it’s never been enough.
When you’re wishing for a dream
That never asks for being seen,
If you’re looking for yourself,
You look for home.

©7/15/2016 K Paige Medina