Icarus Lost

Awash in soothing phrases all is not, nothing is ever and a cultural imperative at all costs, what are we needing to glean, now that hubris has released its grip the heights have less appeal nor the depths’ torrential vacuum the whirlpool dries up, the winds sputter and sigh, the fight collapses into a heap of feathers weighty as a solar flare, light as zero

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“Like a firework in the night sky. Gazed upon, loved and forgotten. So fades my spirit.”

“ALL OF MY THOUGHTS HAVE BEEN HEARD AND DISCARDED. I'LL THROW MY PEN AWAY EVEN THOUGH IT CAN BE REFILLED. THESE PAGES HAVE BEEN TAINTED WITH THE SCENT OF HOPE. AND NOW I DON'T FEEL LIKE WRITING ANYMORE."

“I WONDER IF THE BREEZE MIGHT SING AGAIN. WILL IT CALL THE CANDLES TO DANCE ONCE MORE. CAN OUR GHOSTS RETURN FROM THIS PLACE? OR AM I DESTINED TO LIVE LIKE THE REST OF THEM."

"INSTEAD OF LEAVING BEHIND DELICATELY CRAFTED NOTES OF KINDNESS FOR EACH OTHER TO FIND, WE CHOSE TO TEAR CHAPTERS OUT OF OUR LIVES AND BURN THEM AWAY INTO NOTHING."

"My mattress is a field, and I will leave bread, salt and brandy at the foot of the bed. Rest upon my head, sweet root, and carry me to slumber. To the place where I can feel. If I die, let there be dirt beneath a broken fingernail. The proof my life was real. Crossing this Veil, let me stay forever under."

"The drops are still falling and there is torture everywhere. Too many distractions to panic, I face the rain with a smile. You won't see me, I am just like you. Just like all of them. I will find a way through this, but I can't stop feeling bitter beneath my umbrella.”

Adam Brooks

Bio: Adam can be followed on Instagram: @ lightdarklove

In Ecstasy

Evoke ecstasy through beat and pill, Elation with the gods of dance And in the still, we crave the noise. Swaying in unison, our joy immense. Please don’t ever let it end.

The ecstasy from pill to beats, Strobe of light, strobe of my heart. The pace quickens as do feet. Each of us and integral part Of this eternal night.

Eyes dilated; the beat now gone. Wipe the sweat from the brow!

And take our bow, time to leave our church. Homage to the gods duly made.

Our joy for the week, Devoured in one night.

Christopher Power