The Stone

In darkness I call
My fluorescent dove
To light the way
Along this lonely shore

From a thousand stones
Laid bare at my feet
I pick the one
Most unsure of its place

The shape of this stone
All it can tell
I smell its cracks and
Listen to its weight

I speak to it
With plastic fingers
Draw its name
Wait for its stony silence

At last, a pattern,
Hints of form
A familiar theme
Buried in its flesh

Thoughts fly from me
In bursts, in furies
This stone decodes and encodes
And my eyes widen.

Reviews

[Hawksmoor]

To me, the first stanza says "Life is s**t sometimes, a hollow throat of disappointment sometimes, but Hope and Love are able to light the way when I call upon them."

You are the lonely, unsure stone. You are the cracked, philosopher's stone on the wide, desolate beach.

Or at least that's the vibe I got from reading this piece.

Your flow is fantastic...I've got to say that, first and foremost. Reading this, and I read it twice to be sure I got its meaning, is like sailing on the gentle wave of a notoriously uncertain sea. Back and forth, up and down, side to side, if that aint the exact same as back and forth, lol.

The rhythm here is fascinating as well. The end of each stanza seems to want to end the piece, or rather, could end the piece, but instead, each end is a lead-in to an even more interesting beginning.

That makes sense, or does it sound like literary new age bullshit? lol. I hope it doesn't come off like complete and utter s**t, because I'm saying exactly how it made me feel, even if I cannot be clearly understood.

One thing you should know about me...I'm as honest as they get when it comes to reviews or opinions on such things. After all, no one gets any better by having people kiss their a*s all day, ya know?

This, though...this I like.

Short and punchy and to the point.

Keep up the great work.


Hawksmoor...From The Bleed.