Details |
Damian Nordstrom Poem
Little sways in shower streams
bring on fond memories of sweet
Old Town. Fountains, heavenly
guides. Bricks and rubble take
witness to unheard passions and
half hearted lies. Flats and floating
coats. Subtle splashes on cobbled
roads. We spin and glide between
street lamps. There’s a longing in
the back of a lengthy taxi ride.
A thumb nuzzles where tears have
left thin, jaded lines. I dream of hot
springs, for more than shower water.
For you, you who can be rid of the
knots around the bend of my spine.
For my sweet Old Town, for what can
only have been love made tangible,
comprehensible and personified.
Copyright © Damian Nordstrom | Year Posted 2022
|
Details |
Damian Nordstrom Poem
Could you, would you
still take me if all I
owned and had to give
was this bed of grass
and two calloused hands?
Could you, would you
forgive me when the
blades wilted until brown
and these hands withered
deep into the ground?
Copyright © Damian Nordstrom | Year Posted 2022
|
Details |
Damian Nordstrom Poem
On the bank of the murky river whose current is so rough, sneezing in the rain of dandelion fluff.
In the robins morning call and the white tailed hares vacant stare, in that foreign language my name is spoken.
But no more words wasted describing eyes in terms of their colour or the weather.
It’s been long enough, love. There are sounds the heart needs to hear.
It’s been long enough, love. There’s a difference between satellites and shooting stars.
Between vandalized park benches and cramped stair cases. The apartment balconies flashing Christmas all year round, the log bridge stripped bare.
Come now, no more I, or you, or we, only the places no one has ever been.
I’m the midday blue and eternities view. At the flock of geese magnetically attuned. The lakeside pebbles and fallen trees finding ways to produce any amount of green.
It’s been long enough, love. No more wrestling these indescribable thoughts; it’s words that erode all things felt.
It’s been long enough, love. Self care has spilt enough lonely blood. Soul searching would replace all life if given the chance to.
Copyright © Damian Nordstrom | Year Posted 2022
|