December Daydreams 01 – “Ink in Her Veins”

As I mentioned in a previous post, I’m writing a poem a day during December, in honor of friends and fellow bloggers, using their username, blog title, tagline, and/or poetry, as the source of inspiration. I’ve decided to call my collection “December Daydreams”. Since I adopted the idea from Tara Caribou, I think it’s only fitting that she’s the first inspiration in my series. I highly recommend you visit Tara’s site!

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Introspection

I used to feel like I needed to be inebriated
even to whisper your name.
In truth, you broke my spirit,
ripped me at the seams until I unraveled.

Through blackbirds and rain songs,
I stumbled through the night,
howling words like a madman
practicing witchery or voodoo.

A Poem A Day During December

After reading Tara Caribou’s post today, I’ve decided to commit myself to writing daily during the month of December. I haven’t written new content every day for the last few years, so it’s going to be a challenge. Not only will I be writing on a daily basis, but I’m adopting Tara’s incredible idea to use fellow blogger’s “User Name, Blog Title, Tagline, or poem”  as a prompt. I’m doing this as a way of showing you my appreciation and that I’m thankful for the bond we share through our writing.

Spiral Webs

Copyright © 2018 – Brian Nettles. All Rights Reserved

Photo: Unsplash via Adobe Spark

Sanctuary

As the golden sun cast soft light on her body, she was a sapphire stream that curved through the dense forest of my life. She was my sanctuary. I drank from her waters as a man dying of thirst.

#vss365 #micropoetry #sanctuary

She is the Moon

Day by day, night after night,
her words sprint through my veins,
as brontides buzz beneath seismic skin,
breaking through a heart once bruised.

The low hum of her whisper pulls me close,
as I find myself caught in lunar tides,
pulled to secret places; she is the moon.

Battered Bones

Take me to the hills and open my eyes
as pain amplifies in Autumn rains,
terrified by the monster inside of me,
stuck in the void far too long.

Madness is a Silent Tomb

Just Brian

Selene wore a blindfold of arcus clouds,
as wrothful winds spawned and sighed,
rippling a monastery sea,
and asperous engrams fell
like cloudbursts of bellicose rain.

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A Conversation with Shadows

Just Brian

Attentive apparitions haunt doorways
where hushed figures motion as mimes,
pointing southward and waving goodbye.

As thoughts meander down legendary rivers
retiring to obscure corners of your mind,
to small villas anticipating a tragic conclusion,

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Distant Promises

Some of my first blog posts didn’t get much traffic so I decided to reblog them.

Just Brian

Storm clouds form
in concrete mornings
as thunder rattles
inside inert eyes.

Like angry piano keys
played by hulking hands
repetitive raindrops ring
reminders of existence.

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