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Sarah Spang Aug 2015
Behind closed eyes
Across plum fields
of dream and memory
The scarlet sky
Draws far and wide
Above the cyan sea

There on my back
In turquoise grass
Pressed tight against the earth
My searching ears
Catch distant cheers
Of gulls caught in the surf.

And there above
The rising sun
Is like a tangerine
Drizzling sweetness
On and down
To soak me while I sleep
Sarah Spang Oct 2019
Beneath half-mast moonlight,
Above the night-dew grass,
Against the inky darkness of the
Shadows that They cast-
The pines stood tall like sentries
That barred the dark and wood.
The wind wove through the treetops
As it's fingers chilled my blood.
The gaps within the ranks of trunk
Bore whispers of the void
My hopes, my dreams, my nightmares
Had been tucked away and stored.
And there, I gazed for hours
Between the teeth of trees
To delve into the reasons why
His specter haunted me.
Sarah Spang Feb 2016
When you're around
Someone slips down the thermostat
Plays it like a violin
Drifting a decent toward
The most poignant Minor cord.
I feel lost within myself
Like an island watching a beautiful ship
Sail by without stopping.

And yet-
You leave and it aches;
Hurts like the thud of pulse
Behind a ripening bruise...
Feels as though my heart is about to
Rend my ribs and squelch
Painfully though the cracks
To slither away in your general direction.

In your absence
I realize that simple things
Can grow into necessity.
Tiny seedlings who take root
Can somehow cross time to become
A redwood with roots so deep
The foundation of the earth is never the same
When it falls.
Air is everywhere
And yet when its gone
Beneath tidal waves
It's more precious than gold;
Riches mean nothing when you're drowning.
Sarah Spang Nov 2017

Another year past, with so much more unsaid.
We both had our fatal flaws:
I was afraid to fall too fast;
Wasn't ready yet-
And you wanted to dive into the unknown
Regardless of what happened.
I was too scared,
Too scared to have something so consuming and frightening.
I remember how kissing you was the most wonderful and horrifying things I'd ever done. I remember feeling the young, frail thing in my heart being changed permanently.
And it was just too soon for that.
I'm sorry I wasn't brave.
I'm sorry I hurt you by running, by pushing you away.
I'm sorry that our anger masked different kinds of hurt. There are words I said I wish I could recall, even if they were said in jest.

It's too late now,
Too late in the truest of ways
And I wonder all the time
If those two paths would have bissected again.
It would have been alright if they hadn't. Just the fact that you were still walking yours was enough for me at the time.
But now, there's an empty walk in the woods somewhere-
A place I stand, a crossways I look down, knowing the traveller I seek will never join me.
But if only.
If only, if only.

You would have been 26 this Friday.
When did we... I... get so old?
I wonder who you would have been with four more years under your belt? I wonder, but I know that you would have been just as miraculous to me now as you were then.
I'm shouting to the void, these words, knowing your eyes will never stroke each line I've typed. Penning a letter to ash- to masses of people who will read this and pluck a fragment of my grief like a shard of glass from the sand.

Embellishments aside, flowery language discarded: Happy early birthday, my love. With all of my heart and soul, know that I loved you then, and I'll love you past each year that your body is no more.


Sarah Spang Jul 2015
As of yesterday (finally) I opened a personal blogger page to post my poetry in, as a kind of personal collection of sorts. While I will continue to post on Hello Poetry- which I am too addicted to to stop- there will be work that will only be posted on my blogger account, along with other goodies.

As it is still being tidied up, I'll apologize for the unprofessional appearance of the blog.

Thank you to all of the people who took the time to read a few of my pieces. I cannot thank you enough for your praise and criticism.

Sarah Spang Oct 2016
Every day is closer
To another December
A constant reminder
Of things to remember.

The date never passes
The time never slows
Each step towards tomorrow's
An unending road.

The calendar seemed
Not to mean much to me
Since you passed to shadow
Since you ceased to be
Sarah Spang Aug 2017
In this moment, I love the face of a dead man,
Repeated by chance in the guise of a stranger.

His lips quirk the same way in
Sweet sarcasm,
And in that moment,
Three years beneath the earth scatters,
Ashes to the wind.

And you are here.

His shoulders span the same width
And I know- cupped in my
Needful, grasping palms-
Their touch before I even
Pass a phrase to their owner.

I know, his abrasiveness is softened from a scour
To a pleasant heat
And those who hate it
Love him fiercely, unreasonably, and unquestioningly.

I know this
And yet this man
Is nothing more than a mirage left
In the wake of a fire storm.

After the remnants of goose-flesh have failed to leave my skin
I'll take it.
Sarah Spang Aug 2017
Like this,
You're any way I want you
Wrapped up safe and sure
Inside my head.
Pull the string,
I unwrap you with
Closed eyes
Play with the gift I was never given.

My mind
Is the ultimate preservative
Where time touches nothing.
Sarah Spang Jul 2015
There is a trail in Pennsylvania that is barely tamed
That winds on down the mountainside and fractures into veins.
It lashes through the trees and wood, like man-made ligh-ten-ning
And offers streams of water tasting pleasantly of spring.
This way is framed with micro-caves and fissures in the stone
Where sweetest water rivulets feed moss that's overgrown
Haphazard wooden walkways dot the snake-like trodden path
Their clumsy steps all akimbo; they bridge the wild gaps.

And even further down the trail, dodging brown tree roots
That point like gnarled fingertips and target untied boots
Below, like uncut diamonds lodged into the mountainside
Gushing waterfalls sing aloud, in ranges far and wide.
Their surging torrents babble in a distinguished harmonies
The wordless wind responds by rustling through the countless trees.

There, at last around the bend, before the lumbered river
A bench there sits within the shade where coolness draws a shiver
The wood is at the mercy of the lichen and the rain
That rush to bring that broken boards back to the earth again.

And there, amidst the other foolish carvings in the wood
Scrawled with hopeful youthful hands that did the best they could
The chips and angles buried in reveal what once was true
This is the final place where I will always love you , too.
Visit my Blog for Notes and Extras:
Sarah Spang Oct 2017
One release that rivets me
A nature's siren call:
That silver maple melody
That shimmers forth in fall.
Imbittered wind, imbued with hints
Of coming artic air
Sings a solemn, sweeping song
That strips the branches bare.
The treebone fingers snap and sway
In cadence with the breeze
The clatter castinet of leaves
Refrains forth to the trees.
Summer sonnets circling
Like vultures in my head
Take their leave upon the chill
And quiet in it's stead.
The gentle wash, smooth caress
The wind's voice strokes my ear
It twines around my puckered skin
And draws me ever near.
Away, anon, good riddance precious
Spirit of the green
Be off to slumber, underground
Until the coming spring.
Sarah Spang Aug 2020
I caught the tail of cigarette
In the parting peal of breath.
And even as he walked away
The shame washed all the words away.

I've written scads of nonsense, hence-
A futile need to recompense.
But all of this means nothing now
And nothing lends to reason how-

He may have strode those parting steps
To leave when there was nothing left.
But my words fed the final blow
The nail to coffin down below.
Sarah Spang Mar 2015
Don't bother me, don't follow me
There's no one else I yearn to see
So fold away your memories
To cede beneath that Hemlock tree

What will I do? Where will I go?
Unshod against the burning road?
These memories I mourn and hold
Crease in my hands where they enfold.

Don't bother me, don't follow me
Or brandish me things I cannot see
My eyes plunge past the memories
Beneath that bygone Hemlock tree.

What will you do? Where will you go?
I was your heart, you were my soul
Did you let go and drift below
The Lethe River’s undertow?

Don't bother me, don't follow me
I hold my head above the sea
These memories furled around your sleeve
I've stashed beneath the hemlock tree.

What do we do? Where do we go?
There are separate paths, or so I'm told
You'll tour one, and if I'm bold
I'll peer once more down your own road.

Don't bother me, don't follow me
But yes, perchance... I'll dream of thee.
I'll stargaze there, and make believe
Of truth beneath that Hemlock tree.
Throw a penny my way if you like my work
Sarah Spang Jun 2014
I used sit beneath the shroud
Of stars that swathed the sky,
And gaze at length, with wistfulness
At Moon’s cycloptic eye.

My eyes absorbed familiarly
What were in my own.
Her perfect luminescent face
Despite the scars that shown.

I wondered if she missed the earth
Around whom she did dance
And if she tried, fruitlessly
To catch his lonely glance.

They’d never touch or cross in path
On journey through the sky
She knew this, and so did I
No matter how she tried.

I wonder beneath the moon
All wrapped up in the sky
But now I know just how it feels
To only ever pine.
Sarah Spang Mar 2015
Blackberries, fat with summer rays,
Burst sure and true, like ocean waves
Against my tongue they carry too
The scent, the touch, the taste of you.

Each bramble stripped with greedy hands
Felt no qualm from scarlet brands
Those such marks would wash away but
Stains of you will still remain.

The scratches heal, I’ll brush away
Those nettle prongs that stick and stay
I’ll brush the bracken, soothe the sting
But thoughts of you will always cling.

Those onyx beads, their shiny spheres
Imbued with Sunshine, wet with tears;
The taste is fading from my mouth
Their waves of sweetness drawing out.
Like my poems? Toss a penny my way
Sarah Spang Dec 2020
My arms cut through the water in a
Bid to stay afloat,
And even as my muscles scream
And ocean chokes my throat-

I twist and dart between the waves
To steal another breath-
Dreaming of the moment when
The stormy seas will rest.
Sarah Spang May 2014
Twisting and Dancing
Consume and Control
Body to Body
Soul to Soul.

Flame and tinder
Catch and combust
Rise from the ashes and
Brush off the dust.

Mingling flickers
Destroy and create to
Fix what is broken;
Alter its state.

Beneath all that burns;
Unattainable goal
Sputtering fires and
Diminishing coals.

Body to Body
Hollow to Whole.
Sarah Spang Aug 2017
The tales I weave
Wind through the trees
At midnight's witching hour
The darkened land
The night's soft hand
The blooming orchid flower.

They never stray
Across the day
To arid, fallow land
The baking earth
The scorching curse
The sprawling desert sand

There's beauty, hence:
The soft nonsense
I've conjured word to line
My dancing hands
My mind demands
To praise the desert kind.

I bless the hush
The jagged brush
Of lovely creosote.
The prickly pear
The burning air
The endless, sandy motes.

Each winding dune
The crests at noon
Like molten, golden earth
Reminds me still
Of good and ill
Of beauty and its worth.

My mind tips South
To scour the mouth
Of canyon, creek and sky
My eyes are open
To skies unbroken
To mountain peaks on high.

I've only spied
With inner eye
And pictures on a page-
Yet, in his gaze
His heated rage
I know the barren blaze.
Sarah Spang Jan 2018
Of all things I remember
I'll always recall the sunflowers;
Benevolent guardians that kept
Whimsical treasures from the wandering eye.

There was a slick magic they harbored
Bottled in their rich, sun darkened faces;
The surrendered seeds
We gathered against the wishes of the jays.

I grasped them, granted access to the castle on the creek
Lighthouse in the wood that beckoned back after
The last crawfish had wriggled free
The final apple was plucked,
And the birds had sought refuge.
My written, unfinished effigy to the only father I knew.
I apologize for another hiatus, the well has run dry once more
Still digging around for more.

Thank you, all.
Sarah Spang May 2019
The cold night air is a blistering kiss
Touching images and memories that I'd rather not miss-
And yet my eyes trace roadsides as they buckle on by,
The moon's a silent siren in the aubergine sky.

I left my mind behind me in the whispering wind
As the tires drag down miles past the motels and sin.
The city bright and glowing lights slash colors down my face
And I find my mind's now in rewind to settle on in.

Oh the cruel air it does not care to spare me from the dream
Of lilac breeze, the swaying trees, the water's subtle gleam.
And the way your eyes sought cloudy skies - with your back against the earth,
You traced the lines above the pines and reveled in their worth

My weary feet, they hasten me; a foot down to the floor
And spinning tires, the cable wires are a steady blur once more
Yet, that hidden place, that sacred space, follows deftly behind
With the cruel wind- the city wind- that carries better times.
Inspired by The Cure, obviously
Sarah Spang Dec 2014
**** this half-life, half-light existence;
A weak mockery, reality resistance.
This watered-down version; this decafe taste
This lightless, scentless, barren place.

Colorless, tasteless and poisonous,
Against it all there's no defense.
Encompassing all in shades of Grey,
The approaching walls aren't far away.

Forest green is far from here
Replaced by oceans, gray and clear
And everywhere's a widow's walk
Against the dusk that mocks the clock

Time is a canyon, a chasm, a rift
Filled with thoughts that swirl and sift
The colorless earth splits and sears
Pushing what's lost so far from here.
Sarah Spang May 2014
Seeing the world after having your eyes
For the longest time is like being born again.
Colors are sharper.
Air is crisper.
Sensations, so much stronger than I had ever felt because I had been stifling them like a bad cough.
Letting them rip through me,
I saw the world for what it was,
And saw that I was worth saving.
And once I realized this...
Saw the colors in the air...
Heard each new
I knew that before long they would be nothing again if I didn't have you.
Sarah Spang May 2014
Come back to us through wind and ice,
Through ever-raging sea,
Through torrents soaring through the sky
From where you’re flying free.

Come back to us from far ahead,
From where we do not know.
We never wanted you to be
A place we cannot go.

When images left in your wake
Bring smiles evermore,
The absence marked in falling tears
Heals hearts that still beat sore.
Sarah Spang Feb 2016
Somewhere along the line
From act, to speech to print
The text, made stained by mortal hands,
Condemned an act to sin.
The deed which brands us human
And binds the two as one
Where nature bequeathed liberty,
Religion came to shun.
The little death outside of law
That brings dual spirits close
Became an ugly, shameful thing
Beyond our own control.

If this is so, than **** my love
And send me forth to Hell
May countless masses follow
When commanded to be well.
Sarah Spang Nov 2016
Oh, read the way I see you,
The blessing of my words,
And know that what I feel for you
Has plagued me like a curse.
Sarah Spang May 2014
Memory does no justice
When time comes; fades the lines
A face so dear and dominant
Fades back into mind.

Falling through my fingers
Burned to ash and gone
Whirling into dark and grey
After much too long.

Gone and so with joyousness
Fleeting far away
I'd give the world to have them back
But pain to have them stay.

I cannot begin to grasp
All of what I've lost
I've let this slip away from me
At much too high a cost.
Sarah Spang Oct 2014
If hers is a long and lonely climb
Atop her distant perch,
His then was a lengthy trek
Across the endless earth.
Inspired by sunshine and Nickelcreek. Always means always.
Sarah Spang Feb 2016
The tourniquet
That staunches the onslaught
Of thoughts is precarious;
Sometimes running it's course
And becoming so soiled
That things leak through the cracks.
Those days are difficult
Two hands and a will of steel
Mean nothing...
He slips out and around my fingers
Staining everything with bright
Poignant memories of another time.
My hands, on occasion, are enough
And I'm all I need
Holding the edges tight
Teeth gritted, waiting for the sides to knit
Into something strong and new.
When the tourniquet is fresh though
I remember why I need it so much
Remember the softness of cloth again my
Bruised flesh and sign in the heady relief
He offers.
I don'twantdon'tneed everything hiding behind this flesh
Seeping out constantly
Sarah Spang Jan 2021
Roaming down my spine are shivers
Fingers, fear and dread
And films reels on a loop that trickle
Whispers through my head

Rising in their wake the goosebumps
Feather out and feel-
If only for an instant what's
Remembered then- is real
Sarah Spang Aug 2017
I wonder when
Trapped inside
The dragonfly feels
Every inch of the walls
Curbing her from the sky.
Does her path know destination?
Or does she wait for a gap to the wild blue
That will never come?
I know her fatigue
The steadfast despiration of
Looking for an out
False windows grant
A glimpse of a simplistic freedom
Where carving the air has become
A fading dream.
Sarah Spang Aug 2018
The stopped-smoke sky
Pervades the blue
To drain the shades
Of every hue.

The sepia lends light to how
My world is leeched of color now
Sarah Spang Dec 2014
Not for all eternity
Will sadness streak my cheek
Or curve me with a sightless weight
That bows my kneecaps weak.

Nor evermore shall I mourn
A departure so abrupt,
A constant fixture in my world
From it, so sudden plucked.

Even all time, so short and long
I dare not wish nor pine
Each blessed day that passes by
Each night would ease my mind.

But for  lasting moment
Each smile, each laugh, each breath
The memories shall hold me now
No longer left bereft.
Sarah Spang Jul 2015
Wakefulness has come to be
A pale respite, a poignant dream
Reality has paled and ceased
To be of real devoir to me.

Amongst the living, I trail the dead
That intone from the Netherlands
And in their voices, they do spread
The need to meet their languished hands.

There in the dusk's cerulean shores
Towards the night's sapphire core from
Whence winged creatures dart and soar
I sleep to leave what I abhor.

With Morpheus I cast aside
The shell from which by day reside
In chiaroscuro paradise
I lift my head to meet your eyes.

By day you're nothing, dust and ash
And memories that shall not last
By night, draw breath, return to me,
Come back to life within my dreams.

*Original, Un-rhymed Notes:

The waking world has become surreal
After everything that's happened
All things are a pale shade of what they used to be
Those that aren't here call out to me louder than the scores of the living
I feel them, carried with me
Clinging, pulling me back towards

I see them there, whole and unscathed
Sarah Spang Feb 2015
Someone stroked the dial down
On contrast, shade and form
The dullness paints the very air
From eyes; tired and worn.

ANNOUNCEMENT (To my readers):

Hi Guys,

I know it's been a while since I've posted poetry and I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate your support and feedback. All of you have been so kind and I could not have asked for a better audience. However, times are rough at the moment and I'd like to post a link to my GOFUNDME account. If you like my poems, you will be make a small donation via the website, even a buck would be appreciated. Below is the link.

Sarah Spang Aug 2014
Robert Frost spoke of ice
And fire in his poems
A choice to claim the chill or heat
And call that choice his home.

I’ve found my heart in water
In earth, and in the breeze
Two options binding me for life
And one that sets me free.

Were I though, to chose one path
In struggle, just as Frost
There no simple words to show
Without one I’d be lost.
Sarah Spang Jan 2021
It's easier to leave to turn and go
To mark my footsteps heel to toe
Grasp the door and flee the frame
And keep my mouth shut around your name
Sarah Spang Aug 2020
I paced the squares that mark the days;
Each footstep took me far away-
And yet the circle joined to touch
The echo of the ghost of us.
Sarah Spang Aug 2015
Is dalliance a sweeter state
Due to it's evanescence?
As human beings do we just seek
Ephemeral acceptance?
Or do we yearn eternity
And dwell on it erstwhile
Knowing that our truer selves
Will furtively beguile?
Is affection what we deign to be
A dulcet, soft concession
A short reprieve, a known repose
For sanity's repression?
How much is conscious harmony
How much is chemistry
And what then for the subtle myth
Of serendipity?
Sarah Spang Feb 2016
I worry
For the unmoving mountain
Unable to move an inch
In the midst of an earthquake.
The shaking ground
Does not mean to destroy it
But it cannot be helped
When some things
Are just so obstinate.
They must survive
Or crumble.

The earth is changing beneath us all.
When the dust has settled,
Nothing will ever be the same.
Fall apart or carry on.
Sarah Spang Feb 2016
Should've been
Could have been
Never be that way again.
Sarah Spang Oct 2016
Like a thought brushing up against a sigh
The notion dies before my passing my lips
Wilting somewhere in my skull
Like a world-weary moth.

Flutter flicker, stir and sleep.
Stay where you belong.
Sarah Spang Nov 2017
Move a little closer
Give me what you've
Planned to take.
We're both numb here
Blue lipped
And wanting around the
Taking what burns we can.

I know we need this
The way I need to
Lift away and dig around
In search of something
Though this act will only
Add another layer
He won't reach.
I shiver
Wasting away with the taste
Of fine whiskey
As a whisper on my tongue
Of a moment where we felt
Halfway human again.
Sarah Spang Aug 2014
I can’t, she thinks and cries in vain
Her lips take form upon his name
They tangle up her swollen tongue
And banish every song she’s sung.
The sun burns out, red smears the sky
And plunges into eternal night.

Goodnight, goodbye, so long for now
Sweet garish, perfect sun
Back to the night, achromatize
To shadows I’ve become.
Sarah Spang Nov 2014
No one chose to iterate
Or elaborate to me
The vast unending sea of grief
We tred; trying to breathe

Our paths bisect and weave to form
A beautiful tapestry
That on the surface gleams and glows
With possibility.

Beneath, time tugs each thin line
Until one snaps and breaks
One little thread removed and gone
Left havoc in its wake.

Something once so beautiful
Unravels, sags and fades
Parallel to how the Sun
Sets each dying day.
Sarah Spang Aug 2014
He is the tumultuous ocean,
The twisting, rolling sea
That feigns a certain gentleness
Until its rage breaks free

So vast and so unending
And limitless in worth
I took him once for granted
As I wandered through the surf.

Without the tumulus ocean
Without its rolling seas
Without the tide that tosses me
And never sets me free

The arid, fallow earth would crack
Beneath my burning feet
Reminding me of which I lost
And dried up with the heat

But salt leaves me to languish
No sweetness he can quench
Time will only tell from here
If love can fill this trench.
Sarah Spang Sep 2018
Is the urge to quell a pain
I've bedded with a time before-
A need to soothe in other ones,
A wound of mine that still aches sore?

Or is it that, at night, face up
Within the cage I habitate-
I seek to mingle in the surf
Yet linger in the mess I've made.
Sarah Spang Dec 2015
I am
Nothing more
Than a bag of bones.
My rib cage
Is a prison you rend
In twain, tear the mesh,
And sift fruitlessly through.
I am
An empty shell
You discarded;
All unraveled ends
And frayed edges.
I am
Orange peels
Carrying the essence
Of something sweet
As an echo of scent
And color-
-I will
Return to the earth
And start again.
Sorry for the long hiatus, been busting my **** to make a dent in some school loans, but I promise to post a bit more consistently. Thank you to the people who emailed and asked me to continue.

To make a small donation if you enjoy my poetry, visit my GoFundMe:
Sarah Spang Jul 2016
These days it feels like I've traversed
A whole entire universe
Yet two decades with one year shy
I'm slowing down at Twenty Five.

Short of breath, I close my eyes
Yet keep the inner open wide
Upon a place that won't exist
Unless I choose to reminisce

Sleeping bleeds the staunched off wound
Once bound and kept from swollen eyes
And in the welling, gaping maw
I see the truth swept in the tide.

The sleeping gaze, turned inward then
Sees faces I won't see again
The lover I once washed away
Sweeps shore-ward, where he'll always stay

Within my skull, against my mind
Beneath the dreaming cobalt sky
The softest skin, the sweetest sin
Will always fill my dreams with him.
Sarah Spang May 2015
If I had a way back, I'd ride through the dark and the dawn
I'd ride along the ticking hands, before our time was gone.
If only for another day, a minute, second, moment
I'd reach beyond the veil of time to grasp your hand and hold it.
Sarah Spang Sep 2020
Walk out,
Ash and dust into the
Winter wind
Where your breath is nothing more
Than an echo to aging ears-

And I will follow
To find you in all breezes
Slipping a summer kiss
An autumn football game
Or a Spring car ride
Deftly into a place against my skin.
Sarah Spang Mar 2016
I got low
I went down
In my descent
I brushed the ground
And down below
Amidst the dirt
My ***** fingers
Combed the earth
I went deeper
Nails and teeth
The bones of trees
The stones beneath.
And then- at last-
Upon the fringe
My hands brushed hell
My fingers singed
I reached bottom
Saw you there
Immersed in fire's
Dancing flare.

At the bottom
At the end
I watched you burn
And fell again.

The inferno's twice as hot
When you have to watch someone you love

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