Writings / Poetry: Rebekha Carlsen

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Inside the Diming

A shiver passed along the ridgeline,
Beside hope and possibility.
All that was longed for in fortitude –
A semblance of a dream returned.
The salted canyon wall
A statement solely for the aide of crumbled stone.
An unruly quest surrendering
As a new set brought to occasion. –
And the sense of chill remained
Echoing its promise ill-worn depravity.
An unknown yet luminescent exposure
Bold in its design.
Passing into passage.

A scream!
Some unfortunate critter,
Falling under the weight of that trancing thing,
Serpentine to its core.
A solemn concealment discarded in gloom,
A vision foreign to a sense of finery –
But secrets know their choices best,
Remaining resilient within passageways,
Deep caverns and other stolen things.
And twisted cries of panic –
Inside the dusk. Inside of ebony
And in its pestilence
The Reaper, blasé,
Crossed the threshold inviting its ruin.

Remembrance Abroad

For me a source of want and anti-delight,
Where every foot-fall mirrors the soul with keen
The lonely places of this world have been

Reminiscence, and each axle brings in sight
A landscape marred, known yet not, and burden’s proof
Is free to roam where vale and wood do not

Invite me on. But this lie was – otherwise: a path
Beyond and off the road and hard to find unfit,
You knew, conjoined as twin and yet apart, and half

Masked by Cherry Bloom, Red Wattle and Palms draped; hedged in
The over-arching boughs remind all of bearded grey
Contending moss and weeping vine, heavy in wilderness

Encase it round, and lure valid fact and the eye away
Through an eerie passage where the brooding light
Is dense within its black decay and rottenness.

It still emanates and from that shady lair
Like breath prevailed parried such malign intent,
And something stirred: beneath the darkness there.

This passing holds living forces that begrudge
Disturbance: bush has old memories,
And anger, rooted deep, it grows thick

Recalls affronted sin and the death of deceit.

The Minority of Memory

I remember …
The steel blade
Red
Coated
Covered in memory
Stalled
Stationed within air
Frozen

I screamed: no-one came.

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