A Shadow & Missing Piece

A Shadow (03/09/2012)

Drawn to every mention of your name,
Like a moth to a flickering flame.
You’re just a shadow of an earlier time,
So get out of my mind.

Sleep through my days, awake all night;
No will to resist, no strength to fight.
You’re just a shadow of an earlier time,
So get out of my mind.

I still remember the taste of your lips,
The feel of your skin beneath my fingertips.
You’re just a shadow of an earlier time,
But a shadow divine.

Missing Piece (19/9/12)

I miss having someone here.
And by here I mean lying next to me in bed.
That fictional here that is by my side
wherever I am sleeping
and no matter whether someone has slept in this bed with me before.
That unchanging here that is a place in my heart
more than a place in the world
That necessary here that exists as surely as
the someone I miss is you.

Comments
3 Responses to “A Shadow & Missing Piece”
  1. dianiarusha says:

    Beautiful, as always. 🙂
    I especially like the flow of the second one and the way it sounds when read aloud because it invokes a lot of emotion. I’ve been reading some of Coleridge’s stuff aloud (because I’m entirely normal like that) – mostly recently The Rime of the Ancient Mariner simply because of how captivating it is.
    All in all, I sound like a bit of a ponce, but basically what I’m trying to say is this: you know a poem is great when it sounds beautiful not only in your mind but out loud.

    • Nick says:

      Thank you, Diani, that means a lot! The subject is a difficult one to write on and I’m glad that it’s turned out so well. Thank you for the reblog as well, not only are you a fantastic writer, but you’re a fantastic friend 🙂

  2. dianiarusha says:

    Reblogged this on piapiumsententia and commented:
    This deserves to be reblogged. Firstly because this guy is one of the best writers I know, and secondly because I wish I was able to write poetry of this standard.

    Years ago I dabbled in poetry. I haven’t attempted any in recent years, although I do find myself tempted. The one thing that stops me (and no, it’s not actually the fact that I should be working on my novel…) is the knowledge that I don’t have the skills simply because I don’t have a vast amount of knowledge on the semantics of poetry. Plus, if anything my forte would be blank verse, and the last time I tried to write in blank verse my father told me it flowed more like a descriptive story, and that was why I would one day make a great writer.

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