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  • obelenous
    Bill Erickson
    @obelenous

Images by obelenous

-
I gave you January
And the early dark it bears,
The raindrops lit like amber
In the streetlamps
On the corner so unsparing
That it runs me dry.

I couldn't tell you no
Because you never even asked
But let the company
Of mornings ask instead,
The ashen filtered sunlight
Dawning late
To make the dreaming last,
And is it funny now
That I'm too tired to sleep?

I gave you winter
Just to keep you warm,
And kept the trouble
For myself, and if I had
To figure, I would figure
You for gone.

Well here's another January
Just because the rain is slow
And dripping through
The evenings making gold.
-
#Melbourne #Australia
- I gave you January And the early dark it bears, The raindrops lit like amber In the streetlamps On the corner so unsparing That it runs me dry. I couldn't tell you no Because you never even asked But let the company Of mornings ask instead, The ashen filtered sunlight Dawning late To make the dreaming last, And is it funny now That I'm too tired to sleep? I gave you winter Just to keep you warm, And kept the trouble For myself, and if I had To figure, I would figure You for gone. Well here's another January Just because the rain is slow And dripping through The evenings making gold. - #Melbourne  #Australia 
-
To be a tangent
Of the wind
Whose only instants
Fall for passing,
And to stumble
With these golden hours
In question of my sins,
These searching boundaries
Laid across a skyline
Where digressions paint
In flesh-tone illustrations
Every shifting tide
I've struggled just
To notice but in noticing
Too late have only wandered
Far in error.
To be itinerant like hours
Sown so eloquently
Stray and settle
Sun-blind it this valley,
Lost again.
-
#MtStHelens #Washington
- To be a tangent Of the wind Whose only instants Fall for passing, And to stumble With these golden hours In question of my sins, These searching boundaries Laid across a skyline Where digressions paint In flesh-tone illustrations Every shifting tide I've struggled just To notice but in noticing Too late have only wandered Far in error. To be itinerant like hours Sown so eloquently Stray and settle Sun-blind it this valley, Lost again. - #MtStHelens  #Washington 
-
I pulled the curtains back
To watch a Sunday's
Drawn surrender
Through the silhouettes
Of careless trees
Made ghosts by falling rain,
The countless paltry suicides,
So small and clear and novel,
Passing constant
In the wishful air.

And there outside the glass,
Another semblance cast in grey,
Another effort lost poetically
To graceful bits of progress
Quitting one after the other,
A Sunday not so different
From the days that fell
Before and not so distant
From the man who watches
His reflection washed with tears
The rain has given,
And in only one more breath
Will look away
-
#London #UK
- I pulled the curtains back To watch a Sunday's Drawn surrender Through the silhouettes Of careless trees Made ghosts by falling rain, The countless paltry suicides, So small and clear and novel, Passing constant In the wishful air. And there outside the glass, Another semblance cast in grey, Another effort lost poetically To graceful bits of progress Quitting one after the other, A Sunday not so different From the days that fell Before and not so distant From the man who watches His reflection washed with tears The rain has given, And in only one more breath Will look away - #London  #UK 
-
You can come by
Any time you like.
And maybe,
If the weather's fine,
We'll find a spot outside,
A softer patch of grass
Where sunlight separates
The leaves of some 
Complacent branches
Stirring listlessly.
We'll talk about remembered things
And places that we'd like to go
Til moonlight hides the details
Of our waning conversations.

It's pointless, like the evening
Round and heavy now upon us,
But I'll tell you of a dream I had
And you had not been there.

The stars would act
Surprised above,
And somewhere
In the neighborhood
An echo'd wander off
So maybe, if we're quiet,
We could hear.

I'd hope you'd never leave,
But soon you would.

And in the grass
Would play those shadows
Of a time we might've had,
Though it's too hard to tell,
Sometimes, how real
It's ever been.
-
#Melbourne #Australia
- You can come by Any time you like. And maybe, If the weather's fine, We'll find a spot outside, A softer patch of grass Where sunlight separates The leaves of some Complacent branches Stirring listlessly. We'll talk about remembered things And places that we'd like to go Til moonlight hides the details Of our waning conversations. It's pointless, like the evening Round and heavy now upon us, But I'll tell you of a dream I had And you had not been there. The stars would act Surprised above, And somewhere In the neighborhood An echo'd wander off So maybe, if we're quiet, We could hear. I'd hope you'd never leave, But soon you would. And in the grass Would play those shadows Of a time we might've had, Though it's too hard to tell, Sometimes, how real It's ever been. - #Melbourne  #Australia 
-
She said her name was Disarray. She mumbled it behind the coffee stained enamel wearing thin, just like the evening, but still clinging to her teeth. Spelled across skyline as the tendrils of a fog relaxed, the vagueness settled in with words of smoky erudition. And Disarray, she spoke to me from pupils drawn and empty, so that glances from the latest stars were blind, duplicates of absence painting shadows where they ought to be, so late here in the forest under brickwork making gossip to the tune of cables strung from end to end. She said her name was Disarray. She said it with a breathlessness like bargaining for seconds, and I watched as all her syllables collapsed, an emblem colored darkness by mendacities of daylight falling window after window to the street. She said her name was Disarray, and maybe she was speaking, but it's quiet in the forest here beneath the endless crying hours trying hard amid her words to make their peace.
-
#Paris #France
- She said her name was Disarray. She mumbled it behind the coffee stained enamel wearing thin, just like the evening, but still clinging to her teeth. Spelled across skyline as the tendrils of a fog relaxed, the vagueness settled in with words of smoky erudition. And Disarray, she spoke to me from pupils drawn and empty, so that glances from the latest stars were blind, duplicates of absence painting shadows where they ought to be, so late here in the forest under brickwork making gossip to the tune of cables strung from end to end. She said her name was Disarray. She said it with a breathlessness like bargaining for seconds, and I watched as all her syllables collapsed, an emblem colored darkness by mendacities of daylight falling window after window to the street. She said her name was Disarray, and maybe she was speaking, but it's quiet in the forest here beneath the endless crying hours trying hard amid her words to make their peace. - #Paris  #France 
-
A scent of earth and walnut roots
To keep me, and its blue today.
Blue to please the branches
Sweeping withered between
Drops of rain so far removed
It seems the clouds are lying.
A perfume wed in older days
With older versions
Of these navy eyes to cast
Departed images in glances
Through the limbs and leaves,
Vagaries and light, and if it's blue
Today it's slate to clean
And skies to swallow all of me.
A scent of fallen rain
And summer droughts
The lovely bouquet reads
Those walnut roots too deep
But I still smell them.
-
#WorthingtonGlacier #Alaska
- A scent of earth and walnut roots To keep me, and its blue today. Blue to please the branches Sweeping withered between Drops of rain so far removed It seems the clouds are lying. A perfume wed in older days With older versions Of these navy eyes to cast Departed images in glances Through the limbs and leaves, Vagaries and light, and if it's blue Today it's slate to clean And skies to swallow all of me. A scent of fallen rain And summer droughts The lovely bouquet reads Those walnut roots too deep But I still smell them. - #WorthingtonGlacier  #Alaska 
-
The affairs of one more sunset,
Of eastern daring shadows
Drawing effigies for west to burn
And waxwork hours turning
Just discreetly.

Who'd ever thought
They'd come to pass,
So patient was the air today.
But dusk has played me simply
And I'm sleepless in its breadth,
Like every second's end embodied
Crimson on the margins unexpected. 
And it's instant
And I'm stayed,
And it's the effort of the sunset
In its idealistic moments
To deceive me.
-
#HatcherPass #Alaska
- The affairs of one more sunset, Of eastern daring shadows Drawing effigies for west to burn And waxwork hours turning Just discreetly. Who'd ever thought They'd come to pass, So patient was the air today. But dusk has played me simply And I'm sleepless in its breadth, Like every second's end embodied Crimson on the margins unexpected. And it's instant And I'm stayed, And it's the effort of the sunset In its idealistic moments To deceive me. - #HatcherPass  #Alaska 
-
If solemn had a rifle, she'd go hunting all alone. She wouldn't tell a soul, and in the cold of winter when the snow is thick and when the conversations slow she'd brave the quiet of the forest patch that stands a mile away from home, stands there with its trees so soft and white above the crooked alleys that their trunks have made, and she'd be silent--silent with them all and with her finger on the trigger she'd go aiming in the dark for what she'd missed so much of daytime. For it's awful black this time of year, and solemn's eyes are moonstruck by the flakes of falling sky now piling up, scattered little notes that no one reads for long before they pile up much too high then melt away, but solemn's blue eye's aiming nonetheless at something somewhere and the nighttime tells her quietly to pull--and not a soul would know, because the trees stay awful calm, and solemn wouldn't breathe a word before she'd go, for if solemn had a rifle she'd go hunting all alone.
-
#Matanuska #Alaska
- If solemn had a rifle, she'd go hunting all alone. She wouldn't tell a soul, and in the cold of winter when the snow is thick and when the conversations slow she'd brave the quiet of the forest patch that stands a mile away from home, stands there with its trees so soft and white above the crooked alleys that their trunks have made, and she'd be silent--silent with them all and with her finger on the trigger she'd go aiming in the dark for what she'd missed so much of daytime. For it's awful black this time of year, and solemn's eyes are moonstruck by the flakes of falling sky now piling up, scattered little notes that no one reads for long before they pile up much too high then melt away, but solemn's blue eye's aiming nonetheless at something somewhere and the nighttime tells her quietly to pull--and not a soul would know, because the trees stay awful calm, and solemn wouldn't breathe a word before she'd go, for if solemn had a rifle she'd go hunting all alone. - #Matanuska  #Alaska 
-
I had a rose for you.
I cut it long ago.
I put it in a glass
And set it somewhere
I'd remember,
Somewhere so the sun
Could keep it company.
And every day I'd pass it,
Thinking someday,
When it blooms,
I'll lay it in your hand.

The days, they make for seasons
And the seasons make for years,
And years, they shape like marble
Cold and speachless.

A petal in the water turns,
And something I remember.
A petal on the window sill,
And something I regret.

I had a rose for you,
A rose so red it hurt me,
And I promise
It was lovely when it bloomed.
-
#London #UK
- I had a rose for you. I cut it long ago. I put it in a glass And set it somewhere I'd remember, Somewhere so the sun Could keep it company. And every day I'd pass it, Thinking someday, When it blooms, I'll lay it in your hand. The days, they make for seasons And the seasons make for years, And years, they shape like marble Cold and speachless. A petal in the water turns, And something I remember. A petal on the window sill, And something I regret. I had a rose for you, A rose so red it hurt me, And I promise It was lovely when it bloomed. - #London  #UK 
-
I've tried to find
Your silence tender,
Tried to apprehend
Some great ambition
In the needful passages
I only ever presuppose you'd say.
But you never say a thing
These days,
And I've been thinking
It's for naught,
But I'm not ready to surrender
You to memory just yet,
Not reconciled to passing
Hours suffocated one by one
While everyone but you... And it's so dissonant,
Their voices rampant,
Speaking memoirs of the days
We take for granted.
So I listen for the stories
That you left, but I'm left
Wanting,
For I've heard them all before,
And every word is utter
Hope that I'll find something
Novel in the old times,
But I don't.

I've tried to find the silence tender
But I'm remembering your voice
So awfully clear.
-
#Portland #Oregon
- I've tried to find Your silence tender, Tried to apprehend Some great ambition In the needful passages I only ever presuppose you'd say. But you never say a thing These days, And I've been thinking It's for naught, But I'm not ready to surrender You to memory just yet, Not reconciled to passing Hours suffocated one by one While everyone but you... And it's so dissonant, Their voices rampant, Speaking memoirs of the days We take for granted. So I listen for the stories That you left, but I'm left Wanting, For I've heard them all before, And every word is utter Hope that I'll find something Novel in the old times, But I don't. I've tried to find the silence tender But I'm remembering your voice So awfully clear. - #Portland  #Oregon 
-
I'd find a road
Of empty lanes
Whose fractured pavement
Bends to me,
A path to fall
Itinerant
And desperate is my way.
I'd take it in
A mind to quench
This thirst for burdened
Sojourns over places
Played like memories
Of unsuccessful games.
I'd walk it cold,
And hollow steps
Would travesty the cost,
A vacant road of
Buckled stones and blanking
Consequences stretching miles,
And I'll keep walking
Always wanting to be lost.
-
#Paris #France
- I'd find a road Of empty lanes Whose fractured pavement Bends to me, A path to fall Itinerant And desperate is my way. I'd take it in A mind to quench This thirst for burdened Sojourns over places Played like memories Of unsuccessful games. I'd walk it cold, And hollow steps Would travesty the cost, A vacant road of Buckled stones and blanking Consequences stretching miles, And I'll keep walking Always wanting to be lost. - #Paris  #France 
-
Early in the morning,
When the sanding dust accumulates
In drifts where cobwebs intersect
And smoke has just begun to settle
Pallid in the walls,
A boy of 26 or so
Fights a door with copied keys
From the sidewalk
Where the streetlight
Draws a faltered halo at his feet,
So that the lock is bared in flashes.
Another couple years,
And all the teeth should wear in nicely,
But it's early and the light is barely
Clawing up from east.
If the key won't make the tumbler turn,
He'll wait there in the shrinking light
And think of all the work that isn't done.
-
#Amsterdam #Netherlands
- Early in the morning, When the sanding dust accumulates In drifts where cobwebs intersect And smoke has just begun to settle Pallid in the walls, A boy of 26 or so Fights a door with copied keys From the sidewalk Where the streetlight Draws a faltered halo at his feet, So that the lock is bared in flashes. Another couple years, And all the teeth should wear in nicely, But it's early and the light is barely Clawing up from east. If the key won't make the tumbler turn, He'll wait there in the shrinking light And think of all the work that isn't done. - #Amsterdam  #Netherlands 
-
I am not fragile.
I wear my words
Like scars to show
The violence hasn't cut me,
And I write away the malice
Riding prized from angry voices
Making orders of the day
In breaking news
Of fear and agitation,
Screaming yesterday was better
And so break today,
For greatness is possessing
Rage and isolating ignorance
To extricate
The pleasures of unknowing.

Well, I am not fragile.
I am empty knowledge
Rolling boulders up
This precipice to watch
Them level as they fall again
The faulty sense of difference
That cacophony maintains.

I am not fragile
Because voices fill me
Always with the duty
To make strength from pain
And suffer ignorance
With patience like I'm waiting
For the dam to break.

And damnit I'm not fragile,
So I'm standing
With the strong ones
At the gates of all malignity
Just waiting for the flood.
-
#HatcherPass #Alaska
- I am not fragile. I wear my words Like scars to show The violence hasn't cut me, And I write away the malice Riding prized from angry voices Making orders of the day In breaking news Of fear and agitation, Screaming yesterday was better And so break today, For greatness is possessing Rage and isolating ignorance To extricate The pleasures of unknowing. Well, I am not fragile. I am empty knowledge Rolling boulders up This precipice to watch Them level as they fall again The faulty sense of difference That cacophony maintains. I am not fragile Because voices fill me Always with the duty To make strength from pain And suffer ignorance With patience like I'm waiting For the dam to break. And damnit I'm not fragile, So I'm standing With the strong ones At the gates of all malignity Just waiting for the flood. - #HatcherPass  #Alaska 
-
Traffic labored haltingly
On pavement bathed
In summer sun,
Pent up there and idle
Hemmed between a headlong
Sprint held lifeless
And this subsequence
Of brakelight stains
Like ranting pulses
Saying stop but crushing
Forward every fractioned inch,
And miles to go.
Miles of cut-short starts
To stew beneath a stone July
Whose end comes never
Fast enough,
Until it does
And I scream STOP
Into the windshield
Searing because I want to run
So fast and traffic has me
Rolling over every past
The wrong direction,
Like it shouldn't be the end
But I can't wait to hit the brakes
And turn around for you
To say don't go,
Like I begged so uselessly
While I drove away.
-
#London #England
- Traffic labored haltingly On pavement bathed In summer sun, Pent up there and idle Hemmed between a headlong Sprint held lifeless And this subsequence Of brakelight stains Like ranting pulses Saying stop but crushing Forward every fractioned inch, And miles to go. Miles of cut-short starts To stew beneath a stone July Whose end comes never Fast enough, Until it does And I scream STOP Into the windshield Searing because I want to run So fast and traffic has me Rolling over every past The wrong direction, Like it shouldn't be the end But I can't wait to hit the brakes And turn around for you To say don't go, Like I begged so uselessly While I drove away. - #London  #England 
-
Sometimes I wait for evening
And the blindnesses it brings,
For greens to grey
And blues to grow so deep
The sky could drown me.
I watch behind a window
Hours fall like drapery
To veil what might have been,
The fond desaturation
Of abandoned outcomes
Melting vaguely
Melancholy until uniform
And beautiful
Like blue eyes paling white.
Sometimes the ink
Draws perfectly
A portrait of monotony
That into which I seep
Amid the lightless values
All the errors
I can't look beyond.
-
#Melbourne #Australia
- Sometimes I wait for evening And the blindnesses it brings, For greens to grey And blues to grow so deep The sky could drown me. I watch behind a window Hours fall like drapery To veil what might have been, The fond desaturation Of abandoned outcomes Melting vaguely Melancholy until uniform And beautiful Like blue eyes paling white. Sometimes the ink Draws perfectly A portrait of monotony That into which I seep Amid the lightless values All the errors I can't look beyond. - #Melbourne  #Australia 
-
A garden grew by trial and rain,
By days beneath the sun
Whose burden was its blessing too,
And by the scarred and tired hands
That bled compassion
And self-sacrifice,
Hands that took the thorns in stride
Because she knew always
The blooms would come.

A garden grew in soil tilled
By every tired finger of the hands
That wanted nothing back
But to look on in silence
At her labor for a moment,
To grow it all for sake
Of every day spent smiling
Or in tears above it, working,
Always working til the last
And even then because she sees
It bloom and as it drinks in sun
Forgets not even a second
Of the days gone by.

A garden grew and bloomed,
And in the simplest way
Its grace was granted
Season after season
Without thanks.
-
Happy #MothersDay
#London #England
- A garden grew by trial and rain, By days beneath the sun Whose burden was its blessing too, And by the scarred and tired hands That bled compassion And self-sacrifice, Hands that took the thorns in stride Because she knew always The blooms would come. A garden grew in soil tilled By every tired finger of the hands That wanted nothing back But to look on in silence At her labor for a moment, To grow it all for sake Of every day spent smiling Or in tears above it, working, Always working til the last And even then because she sees It bloom and as it drinks in sun Forgets not even a second Of the days gone by. A garden grew and bloomed, And in the simplest way Its grace was granted Season after season Without thanks. - Happy #MothersDay  #London  #England 
-
I told a secret once
To Friday
Of the anger
Piling up,
Like so many bankrupt
Weekdays kept in line
By feigning interest
And the gist of every one
Of them time wasted.

I told a secret
Of self-medicating,
Of every bitter pill
I swallowed
For some Monday motivation,
And I know their just placebos
But their saccharine
Does me well.

And no one ever noticed,
But the Friday that I told,
How Sunday's mournful wait
Performs an elegy for errors
Made on days I've spent
In thoughtless seconds,
How eloquently passed
Those tender injuries recycled
Every day before today,
And how tomorrow
Counts them off
Like chances missed
Between the clock tics
So their silence punctuates
The sentences I've made.

I told a secret to a Friday
Of the times I loved the pain,
And when I spoke
There wasn't angst
In what I said.
There, beyond the weekdays,
Where it's all but measured up,
Not a word but graceful madness
For the moment so long gone.
-
#Melbourne #Australia
- I told a secret once To Friday Of the anger Piling up, Like so many bankrupt Weekdays kept in line By feigning interest And the gist of every one Of them time wasted. I told a secret Of self-medicating, Of every bitter pill I swallowed For some Monday motivation, And I know their just placebos But their saccharine Does me well. And no one ever noticed, But the Friday that I told, How Sunday's mournful wait Performs an elegy for errors Made on days I've spent In thoughtless seconds, How eloquently passed Those tender injuries recycled Every day before today, And how tomorrow Counts them off Like chances missed Between the clock tics So their silence punctuates The sentences I've made. I told a secret to a Friday Of the times I loved the pain, And when I spoke There wasn't angst In what I said. There, beyond the weekdays, Where it's all but measured up, Not a word but graceful madness For the moment so long gone. - #Melbourne  #Australia 
-
Another coat of paint
To make these borrowed
Walls less tenebrous,
Because from here
Inside them
I've the sense their sallow
Looks assume a bit too deft
The semblance
Of the candles burning low.
And water on the windowpane
Draws vaguely somber
Pearls along the surface
Of these tired facades,
Like so much matted color
Dripping dusky to the floor
Where nothing much but
Footprints in the dust remain.

Another set of stains to
Cover up as if it's just the time,
And time will come when
All the paint is dry.
These sleepy walls,
They'll drink another coat of paint,
I'm sure,
And sure as well
I light another candle
As they do.
-
#Melbourne #Australia
- Another coat of paint To make these borrowed Walls less tenebrous, Because from here Inside them I've the sense their sallow Looks assume a bit too deft The semblance Of the candles burning low. And water on the windowpane Draws vaguely somber Pearls along the surface Of these tired facades, Like so much matted color Dripping dusky to the floor Where nothing much but Footprints in the dust remain. Another set of stains to Cover up as if it's just the time, And time will come when All the paint is dry. These sleepy walls, They'll drink another coat of paint, I'm sure, And sure as well I light another candle As they do. - #Melbourne  #Australia