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Alastur Berit Oct 2021
Hanging heavy and low,
but still bitter.
Not yet ready to plummet to the earth.
These weights tug at my branches
I must prepare,
for all these unborn dreams,
wanting to live, to spread their own seeds.

A cup of coffee,
gravity
a morning yawn. Making
busy work
I tried a passion or two. They
yielded a small harvest, not enough
to survive the winter.

And winter is here,
reaching far inside the reserves,
testing out how brutally
it can ravage before collapse.
Lost in the blizzard, I stumble.
Your dreams call to me, a light leading me home.
If I can't find my own, I'll follow yours,
we'll make it through this storm.
Alastur Berit Nov 2019
In Florida the ground doesn't rise to meet the sky
no cliffs overlook the sea
barely a change in landscape
except the burial grounds paved over
to make room for the cemeteries
of those who come here to
pass.

Flat as a plain,
hurricanes can rip apart
homes and condominiums
and steal the sand
pumped on the beaches to keep them
white as bone.
washing away our filth
spreading red tide.

but during the summer,
when you can
forget all of this,
our clouds billow up
thousands of miles high
lightning their crown and thunder
their trumpets
heralding a sudden downpour.

we get a new mountain everyday. shifting
into new forms of heaven
wild
unbound by property legislation
separate from silent segregation of these
southern cities.
un-phased by the shutters on the windows
of the beach homes
owned by those who visit in passing,
when convenient.

a glimpse of these peaks
sends me a smile
driving into downtown
no matter how weary

here's a secret locals know
sunsets are more beautiful
when you look away
from the horizon.
(the only western water sunset
on the east coast!- only $200 a night!)

at the colors cascading
through the
endless bounds of
the clouds.
Alastur Berit Nov 2019
one blanket
then another and another
except it's summer in florida
with no A.C.
and someone's waiting for me to
get up.
or get it up.
or get with it.

call? there's barely breath here
let alone
voice.

a blanket is stone
when it's made of
expectations.
a heart is hot when it wants
to feel everything
hands are frozen when the future
depends on them.
I can have everything
I say
I'm strong enough
I can take it
I am able
I don't need
space
I don't need
rest
I don't need
time
I don't need
love

I can't
move.
On grad school.
Alastur Berit Aug 2019
I.  
100 years have passed,
but you still hold me.
Cracking at the seams you fold us down,
and we sigh at the stars
until we don't.

II.
One night, far before that,
you shake the sleep from your eyes
while I snore,
and a baby cries.

III.
I cry during my vows.
Maybe you do, a little, too.
We dance, matching each other,
spinning stories with our bodies.
Threaded together.

IV.
I expand with pain
until I collapse. You keep the light going
I don't turn into,
a black hole.

V.
Fire blossoms in our chests
We carve each other
with words until, unexpectedly,
we laugh.

VI.
Everything is blurry now
We walk slow, in pain,
complaining about time's
betrayal.

VII.
The whole time,
I love you like the sea
and pillows of summer clouds
that gather into sheets of rain.
I love you like thunder
and dragons
tater tots and scrabble
a promise whispered,
every day, a secret song
humming.
video games
and rainy days, a
lamp on the desk.
or maybe, a pair of
jeans.
a cherry tree in Maryland
I love you like I forgot death,
and remembered magic.
and then we made it
every day.
We never forgot it again.
And it was never a waste of our time.
not one
little
bit.
Alastur Berit Dec 2018
Where are you?
The crowd tries to bustle
the tickets out of my clenched hands
I cannot seem to find you.
For a second, there! a flash of you,
vanishing as a corner carries you away
I know you're near, but not
what's happening
Are you running towards the gate?
Or away from me?
Find a bar, meet a new friend
Steps 1 and 2 in a magic spell
3 sips, a story, 4 drinks, and you're on an adventure
while
I am the gatekeeper
The Fire Lord to your Avatar, the Sauron to your Frodo,
trying to trap you at
every turn.
But that is ok.
Fight me, triumph over me,
throw my ring in the fires
I'd rather see that than,
see you get stuck at this
****** airport

you have your own adventures to live
worlds to travel,
magic to share.

you are my love, my hero, the one who triumphs
over evil, the elven star to my Shelob's lair, the
gandolf to my Balrog, the s.h.i.e.l.d. to my H.Y.D.R.A.
the kirby to my Galeem,
the nephalem to my Diablo.
not just that-
you are
little moments
of light found in between
the chaos of time
You are
everything I imagined
and more
when my world was dark,
and the only hope I could cling to
was the idea of my future,
and perhaps the someone, (that heroes always meet)
who drives away the darkness
and holds their hand.
You are the one to see the world with
the destination of my travels,
the one to land with.
my partner.
but
not if, to you,
I am the gatekeeper.

and I'd rather be the gatekeeper
(even if it means you know what)
than watch you get stuck
and your magic fade
and your steps falter
and your soul struggle
to breathe, and you
hate yourself,
I'd rather you hate me
and get out of this airport
because otherwise,
evil would
truly win. and that
that is what
would end me.
Alastur Berit Sep 2018
Some people feel like a fire
I feel more like an ember
still hot enough to
burn
if you get too close.
I can flare into a fire if the right wind
comes along, pushing me
into the sky, the kind of fire
that burns through the night
rages through forests
eats through earth
but settles down again
the kind to roast marshmallows over,
or keep a cabin warm
in winter. But
the thing about being an ember,
is the rain hurts.
Some people grow from a good soak
rising up through the earth
reaching up towards the sun
they feed, and pulse, and grow
I shrink
losing the warmth that
makes me,
me.
soggy and steaming ash, acrid smoke
curling into the sky
gradually, until I disappear
An ember doesn't like the rain.
it's scared one day, the
rain will put it completely out.
And anyways,
who could learn to love,
something that,
at the end of the day,
after it tricks you with its warmth,
after it's kind
after it toasts
your food
and
its heat kisses you,
after all the effort you put into
stoking back the flames,
will still always burn you.
Alastur Berit Jun 2018
Once upon a time I wove love
with a black thread
and gold
and took them both together inside,
weaving
pulling
til they were tight
accepting the product,
loving the cloth,
with the shadow emphasizing the light,
the shine as important
as the dark.

And a wound as vast as the ocean
as angry as a storm
began finally to close
a chasm defeated,
a giant toppled,
by a bit of imagination in a dark room.

Those kids ignoring me,
my fury,
my loneliness,
my forgotten tears,
my fear.
I comfort me, and cry. Then a
-click-
I realize

Instead of wondering,
"What's wrong with me?"
Just a simple shift.
A step I could never take
(impossible, I had no legs)
air I could never breathe
(my lungs lost)
but now
I sing, I climb, I dance,
"What's wrong with them?"
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