i.
the scent of sorrow, hanging in the air
rotting away what's left of this skin.
wrists — sewn shut
are wrists undone:
the morbidity of it all pervades —
this i confess.

ii.
look not. turn not, for
each careful stare, each scornful gaze
has me falling back into darkness;
maybe eurydice has found comfort in its arms.
maybe so have i.

maybe this is how it's always meant to end.

iii.
lately, sunsets no longer melt
into an afterglow —
they just turn into the night.
at least it dims
the futility of drawing each shallow breath
from places filled with smoke and dust;

there used to be something there:
this, i confess.
this, i remember.

there used to be something there.

there used to be something h e r e.


— fray // november, must you be so cruel to my trembling hands left with no heart to break?

For the first time in five years I didn’t wish him happy birthday, I wanted to, I opened the phone, I typed in his name and saw the last two messages from me, two years of happy birthdays with no response.
I closed the screen and put my phone down, it’s over, he’s become a ghost in my story while I’ve become another Skelton for his closet.
I thought I would cry when I passed the hotel we stayed at, the first time we celebrated his birthday together, tonight it was just another building on my drive home.
Although we will never be lovers again, my heart wishes him well, as I’ve finally found peace and healing in once meaningful, but now mundane days.

everyone writes about the november light
how soothing
how bright
but here it was
waking a ****** at 3 pm
how nice

he slept at the couch since the living room's darker
he slept a good 14 hours
because of the tablets
in his head he's been sleeping
since september
a noisy september
gave him nothing but fatigue
and the torrents of storms
and streetcars
he closed his eyes as the rain put him to sleep
without any care
as to when he's going to wake up

but he awoke at november
and the gloom was tinted
by the afternoon
he ate his breakfast
his housemate's lunch
he retched at the toilet floor an hour after
his day was going swimmingly

he expected nothing better
than the last few minutes
waking up
hating the open aperture of
his godforsaken eyes
and all he craved was a smoke
so he went outside
and for once
it was quiet
it was nice
the sun brightened the shadows
of the apartments of a cul de sac
the clouds littered a soft blue void
a softness he hasn't seen
since god knows when
the air stank well
the roads
filled not with cars
but with critters
both human and not
and the sunlight
not the harshness of april
nor the woe of june
but a caress
like the warm embrace of a lover
whose heat never went out
when darkness fell

and for once
for a very long time
it was quiet
it was nice

To November,
Thanks a bunch
for reminding us,
that the letting go
is the only way to make roads
for new blooms!

Every November I felt something new. November is full of change, nothing remains the same as before!

Acceptance: Somewhere in the month of November, I met a new person who changed me inside out..!! Embraced me with love, gave the warmth in those chilly days. We spent moments with happiness and shared our fears in the night sky, witnessing clouds uncovering the moon. Dreamt of good things, peace, and a bucket full of love. And November turned out as a happy month to me! No matter how much I tried but memories kept coming back, making me blush every single time..!!

Togetherness: Time passed really very fast, Again November came! I remember, spending days like never, contemplating each other’s hearts. Aimless drives, messed up schedules, movie marathons, street foods, and open bottles of beers. I found a home in him, a home of love with no limits and no worries. We promised to step together, holding hands in November, and to hang out till the November dissolves! And yesss we did...few Happy Novembers!

Separation: And then a few years later a day in November came with lots of new feelings..! Feeling of abandonment and betrayal just like dull and dark days. Crying in freezing night under that large yellow full moon but this time all alone! It felt cold, even the stars were extra cold to me; lights were so dim that paths were invisible. My heart was aching, and my trust was dissolved. I was miserable and pitiful! Always lost and struggling in the memories of past and present!

Learning: And now it’s again November I see blooming flowers and sometimes butterflies..! Red, Pale, Blue, Pink and White flowers. And it doesn’t feel like cold/dry or happy month to me!  and as I see he got engaged so, probably a month for him too!  Now I see November as the month of change and new hopes. This November taught me no matter how dry the weather is but you have to keep blooming, And I have realized that not everything is worthy of you! If something feels like a burden to you, just remove them and make some space for new dreams. And that’s the only way!!

equal top billing
Leonids and Taurids show
~fireball duet




Mark Toney © 2020

here it sits
hidden behind the fog
that rolls in on salty air
its dizzying staircase leads
to a perch overseeing the murky water
a view once sought out, now seen
too many times
the light is almost burnt out
from years of constant use
a lifetime of steering ships clear
from a jagged, rocky death
a once simple responsibility
that grew over time
a never-ending obligation
alone it stands
no visitors, as the time
for trips to its land
are long gone with the past
overrun by trees and bushes
that reach up with open palms
the light flickers painfully
hope is wearing thin
in the end, it lets out a sigh
barely heard above the roar of waves
as its light turns on once more
though it begs
just once
for it to be dark.

When the sky greys, memories: the first blush
of a joy unknown sprouting in the vases
sparklers, Catherine wheels on the front yards
of the homes of others; We possessed nothing
but our hearts of gold that leapt in waves;
Diwali like no other, on the streets, under the sky;
Away far over the seas among our kind who
in such distance are kin in a moment: home is
just the company of friends, memories lighted
in silver streaks of crackers past the shadows
of gardens retired for the night, and we, carefree,
in Southall where it was allowed to be merry;
It was the November of dreams, a night
like no other, now comes rushing in flashes
dawning nimble across time in the hues of blue.