Days are colder. Men stroll with long coats and laden heads, guarded from the rain, women grip their catatonic hearts, gazing into their reflections on the sultry train windows. I don’t remember the last time I cried. I’d swear I’ve seen sunlight in the past few weeks, but such memory escapes me. The Summer that just evaded is now another distant shard, and somehow, I remember my nineteenth Summer with more clarity, than I do that which just passed. Kids are still as radiant as heat itself, seasons aren’t seasons to them, but simply a permeable haze that hovers through; it doesn’t weigh on them, little weighs on them, little weighed on me when I was a child. I remember when I ceased being a child, the very day, down to the very second. I was thirteen, marked by a shortness that would take
I usually stray from posting the Sinelos (Surrealist) variant of my poetry. It is messy, highly mutated and usually a product of my Silence exercises. The more distant I become from reality, the higher the abstractions, and messier the perceptions radiating outwards. But now, people who read my works are increasingly more diverse, and I’d hope at least one person connects more heavily with my surreal side, in stead of my melodic, modernistic and lyrical composing methods.
And if not, y’know, I can dwell inside the bliss of trial.
Blessings of Akatosh upon ye!
So, bear with me here; I know it’s not great, but I was mashing my brain against this first Canto without any true necessity. Poems like these require a certain heaviness I cannot fully achieve (just yet), my poetry still draws much from my own levity as a person. That being said, the form is still ridiculously volatile, and I apologise for that. So far, The Shades are mostly lyrical, Cocytus is mostly expositive and Luriam is mostly confessional. I would like to keep it that way, but still need to work on their cohesion and how the styles transition. Regardless, if you have any tips, I’m all ears!
Thank you for reading!