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there's a strange and beautiful light in the building this morning
as i walk down the hall lined with empty offices all dark
on my merry way to my morning coffee
it's dark and storming outside
sweet Summer rain
heavy dark, almost night
and that odd, grey-cast half-light
that is not quite shadow but neither true illumination
filters in through the tinted office windows
into the hall
into my eyes
blending on the way with the white bright from buzzing fluorescents
that draw a dotted line down the halls' ceilings
so that the colors from within and the colors from without
merge
to form a singularly beautiful light that glows in the air
only on days like this
dark rain
morning sky
fluorescent light
off-white walls
and i'm suddenly lost in that ethereal glow
drawn back in time to a memory i had forgotten when i was still young
of the time when i had first learned to love this light
though i didn't know it then
and couldn't have put it to words even so
i was still only learning how to read
and the school day still included a time specifically for "napping"
but i knew that rainy days were different, somehow special
and not only because we would have recess in the gym
but because everything about this strange new world that i was shuttled off to every morning
Looked Different
on these dark rainy days
everything glowed in a strange way
and it wasn't like that when the sun was shining bright through the windows
and most days were sunny
it was only sometimes, only in the once-in-a-while
that the sun would hide behind the darkness
and the wet would come pouring down on us
and the class-room would glow
and i would feel the strangeness of that rare and special light inside of me
my tummy would roll and quiver all day in anticipation of
nothing in particular
my young body would vibrate to match the frequency of the fluorescence humming above me
overwhelmed with exuberant expectation
i couldn't have described it, couldn't have said what it was
i was still only learning to speak
but i knew something was different in my world
i knew it was rare
i knew that it did something to me
i knew that i liked it
and i came to realize that is what the word "beauty" meant
and that is where "love" came from
and though i didn't know it then
couldn't have known it then
now i realize
i've chased that strange and beautiful light
every day since
Rodrigo  Apr 2014
darklight
Rodrigo Apr 2014
In my deepest depths, places darker than words worth describing
You lit a torch to find your way out, your eacape from a hell you envsioned
Before you there was no light, never a dream or glimmer of anything but dark abyss
After you disappeared the memory of your torchlight stirred new demons
Mixtures of envy and pain swirled amongst fleeting thoughts of joy and elation
Empty and hollow pains began to mix with the fleeting warmth you so hastily left
A light began to shine in your absence, darker now, more dead than ever alive
Glowing if anything as an affront to the joy it might have once been in life
Each shadow it cast a grim and sickly replaying of memories it couldn't understand
It grows in me daily, this darklight not quite dead and cold, but never warm and loving
This sick abomination of a heart that could have been is your legacy inside me
Every day it cries out in constant torment, everday I feed it lies.
Mark Wanless Jul 2023
dark is not faster than light
   it is everywhere always

      yet

the dark is negated by light
   always forever everywhere
Ebony Kale  Oct 2014
Darklight
Ebony Kale Oct 2014
Come with me,
please.
Come.
Into the night,
let it wrap us up.
It will smother us in kisses,
tells us all the wonderful, lies of love, life, and happiness.

Be trapped with me,
please.
Let us embrace the dark,
the right natural world, and live.
Shed you mortal chains,
and come into the illuminating dark.
please.

Escape with me,
please.
Into the far reaches of the shadows,
discover with me, lost vitality, love, and life.
Forsake the light for the dark,
let the judgments and shame be forsaken.

Receive with me,
please.
The kisses of darkness,
the illumination of all that is natural and right in the night.
Realize all that the light has rejected.
breathe the free air of the darkness.
Kiss and embrace new life,
reborn free of shame, regret, and worry.

Share with me,
please.
the immortal dark light.
Paul Hardwick Sep 2012
dark moves me so
makes me feel fear
dark removes my mind
to a place where i am not sure
it wonders even more
what will be
i can not be sure.
Connor Jul 2015
The giants tongue swallows
Suns
/Constellations constant
down the knowledge throat
And Owl perched over velvet
Hollering at the neighborhood
Darklight nightlight window
Still life sillhouettes radiant behind
Metropolitan curtain series bleeding
NEON-

The OWL is receiving words
Back/forth the communal conversation
vibrating thru
tenements and telephone wires.
HootHOOT Italian Voicemail two in the morning
Beep tip & ZAP>>by doorway,
H o ot Hoo t deranged traffic
Menagerie metallic dance of silvery brass
windshield reflection/
Other owl beating wings on the wheel
to Debussy
While lakes become public fountains
and Oceans become wars.

Giants breath ***** up                        atmosphere,
Javelin to eyes
Everything                     ...                      escaping us
“THE INEVITABLE BLINDNESS OF MORNING”
Heavy matter on the soul/
Doomly sandman tossing flowers
down the aisle
during wedding for imaginations
weeping tears of JOY
!AT LONG LAST!
The apocalypse is no longer Faeries
and pamphlets
on the
                Elephants
                          doorstep.

Giants showering with hot water
And
Owls sweating/
Damp feathered
in front of the machinery at that heatwave
boiler room backyard.
The animals have been terrified of existing this way
(owned by our products)
Before commercials
And Cold War nuclear paranoia broadcast in
Ohio (Columbiana County)
                                                         ­                  Owls be dreamin' fevers!
(Dreamin' the commonly non understood methods of which the TV sets turn on, anyways)

Noah's Ark continental
engulfed by
                     the galaxy
and comets
                    --------JUST--------
                 ­    ---MISSING--
          -THE-
[[EARTH]]
(Boy, that one was close!)
The spaceship enthusiasts
with superspyglass
technology pointed at infinity
telling us that September
will be the END OF THINGS AS WE KNOW THEM
the Owls are sleeping in their nests
ticktocking
in whispers



......the answers
to the darkest parts of

<the man-woman-brain
the human-brain
the dumbo-brain
and goof-brain>

"Oceantide inward-
taking everything, even the gold"

Letting loose
giant discovery ******
to           M O O N
and         P L U TO
snapping picturephotographs
“Ooooooh!”
“Aaaaah!”
Trashing rockets/
projectiles capable of decimating
the
CORE
of
the
P.L.A.N.E.T
hundreds of times over
(Jesus Christ!!)
the owls are all too aware
of that
wacky-brain
primate deficiency
and packing their suitcases
to pocket realities
hidden beneath
                                                TREETRUNK­S

The giants
(us)
the blackhole of population
so deep so dark so quiet
nobody can see it coming
(a-million-lightyears-away-i-swear-it)



DON'T FORGET THAT
DOGS ARE AFRAID OF VACCUM CLEANERS
AND I THINK THEY'RE ON TO SOMETHING......
Hot on the tail of that wily, elusive beast
named ‘inspiration’, I travelled north.

North, where colours mute
and transformative shadow
bends in darklight,
revealing the world as it really is,
as it once was.

Hundreds of years pass,
rolling back time, boiling clouds
rushing over peaks in reverse,
a tiny tornado ***** in on itself,
and hundreds become thousands.

Rain blackens the babies of volcanoes,
engorges forces with greater purpose
and cleanses every shred of vision
from my grasping, desperate mind.

Thousands become millions
And I am stripped of incentive to try.
There is no ruination, here.
No furious nor frantic need
to imagine past lives
in this manicured, managed place.

High-vis’d toilers scuttle on mountainsides
carefully placing and re-placing rocks,
funnelling feet and discovery
on a prescribed and sensible path.

Only the rain
wreathing a secretive misted ribbon,
creeping in glacial cut-throughs,
is possessed of fanciful virtue.

Nothing shatters but the slate
and the landscape does not turn inward
to eat itself
in gnawing, atavistic need.

It says more about me,
than it does of the Lake District
that I would wrench out and offer
my super-heated heart
to see the mountains fall.
I know the Lake District attracts millions of visitors every year who gasp of how beautiful it is, but beauty is subjective, after all, and I simply found it too clean and almost Disney-fied in its smug majesty.

I need desolation, an unsettling sense of melancholia, and to see the broken bones of a place, jutting sadly through the earth, before I proclaim it 'beautiful'.
karoloser  Jan 2020
darklight
karoloser Jan 2020
emotional depth and understanding it.
it shines upon when the past emulates the present.
to take the higher route, makes amends.
we forgive.
betterdays May 2014
ten n' two past three,
my mind slips from it's
domesticated fetters,
flys free into the star stitched night..

wandering, effortlessly
to climes of restless insanity
and step-stoning away from
garnered life.....

....it finds the scurrying creatures,
hovel featured and scrawny
eyes ......beggars @ the feast.
tired of the hide-away life...
wanting just a moment's grace.... a smidge of light...
pickpockets of slumber's ease.
abram, palliard, mendicant.
all asking for alms to ease their plight...

all.... wanting succour in the dead of night.
.....yet, at this time,as the darklight,
thinks and hopes desperately for dawn...

....i find my mind poor.. ....careworn and a cupboard bare and paltry...

...so again my night's thoughts . ..wend their way home hungry and sad....
black and grey wraiths,
of thoughts...... i never really had....
another freeflow insomniac
ramble.....when the upper mind is tired....it's restless children come out and play...
I have a nexus
inside my mouth
but the problem is

how not to
further bind you
in paralyzing webs

it's gonna be whoa
it's gonna be more
than you think
possible

I'd prefer to
connect our dots
in open-heart throes
therapy sesh dosed

on a day
when we're ready
to say hello, let go
and scatter brimstone

fall up into roots
climb trees into pink
2,000 feet tall (at least)
opened fists laced
eyes blown by aerials
of this darklight karmic
forest we've grown

— The End —