A heft of Paleoproterozoic gneiss — fossilized memory, motionless Dragon's Eye stares at breathless descendants who gaze upon auroras, reawakening Origin: Muspelheim flame meets Niflheim frost, and Ymir grows from a small ember that melts the snow, leaving this pure pool to protect the witnessing Eye. Like the cow Audhumla, two spirits lick a glacier…
Beneath liquid diamonds sparking o'er moon-touched stone she shuts her eyes to dream: his lips descend. Written for Day 4 of National Poetry Month. This one did not place, likely due to how short and simple it is compared to the effort of the other entries. I was feeling a bit lazy that day, so…
As a snake newly shed, wet and glistening and ready to be pricked by hawk’s talon, your body slithers along mine. Dripping poison by the Nile’s tides, perfectly positioned to penetrate, your pointed fangs are sharp pearls I covet to adorn my neck and breast — Beast! Anubis would envy your ease of transformation to…
Soft, yet not like silk — this is soft like a bison’s lips nibbling on prairie grass; like a prairie dog’s warm nose, nuzzling another in a snug burrow; like a burrowing rabbit’s legs kicking, flopping ears across eyes, tooth, and claw; like claws of a cat withholding force just so in play with almost-prey.…
I will fall to follow I will fall to ground dirt smearing my face to follow I will fall to follow your subterranean descent dirt smears my face to find your descent so I may follow your hellish stairs I climb climb, clamber the stairs your spirit tumbled down to hell I shall tumble to…
Granite walls without grout, one slab, no bricks, erected tall and long, concentric circles starting tight around my heart, the widest one right beneath soft skin the world sees my faux armor – I found this rock, mined it myself, alone, as I was trained to be for eternity. My makers were dedicated, but they…
I wander by the water's edge, waiting for you to splash haphazardly in with no inhibitions. Only then will I trust enough to let the shallows lap at the tip of my big toe. An inch of bare skin is skinny-dipping in my mind. I watch the ripples cascade down your bare back. I want…
I'll admit, the only poetic aspect here is the wordplay of the word well as an exclamation and as a synonym for satisfactorily. This is mainly an open letter to the boys I used to know as a teen who were too immature for a relationship that I felt ready for. Enjoy my diary poem.…
National Poetry Writing Month
Keeping the world immersed in stanza.
About fantastical places and other stuff
"The silence of the night awakens my soul"
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Saralyn Caine Poetry 