I have always been ash

ash was in my mouth when I first cleared my lungs

coming from the inside out

unwrinkling doubt

I have always been ash

ash was in my hair tinging it with streaks of despair

shouting from roof tops

some of us are better off unborn

I have always been ash

ash was my bed fellow when light was dimmed

we lay side by side, reluctant sardines

licking the brine from our dessication

I have always been ash

ash was my first lover who turned the oiled key 

a world of hurt in carnival ride

the painted horses, so noble, so fine

I have always been ash

ash is my name, fingerprint, DNA

ash is my best friend, last sex, the one who will

nail Beachwood coffin shut, throw the earth

on top, along with ash it mixes and turns

white like skeletons





45 thoughts on “Ash

  1. A truly wonderful poem! Love the picture. I had a cat for sixteen years, named Tiger, that looked exactly like this one.

  2. R- sent by error……. We shall all rise from the ashes- and live and breathe clear the air we deserve. A time for rising up through the ash- and grasp that which is rightfully ours. LIFE….

  3. “The painted horses so noble so fine”…..wonderfully and beautifully written! I threw the dirt on my good friend’s grave….took my time…took my turn. He would have loved this writing. He died on Christmas morning 2 years ago…you have written him a belated present. From nim and from me, thank you so much!

  4. Wow. Powerful imagery and words. Thank you for liking a post on my blog. It gave me the opportunity to *meet* you and your blog. Beautifully penned poem.

  5. I felt happy reading this. Sometimes when we don’t talk much I feel I don’t and it just feels good to know I still do. I hope you read what I wrote about your paper and how you must not let that hold you back.

Comments are closed.