strike these poems together like
two flints. sparks will erupt.
hunt and gather small verbs of
debris, for it will catch first.
think like a caveman.
feel the cold and hunger.
pile word twigs together on top.
carry the stick weight of vowels
as they yearn for life.
ugh. ooh. aah.
dowel upon wood, turn the syllables
until they mean something. force
them to mean something. do
not relent.
with sacred delicate breath, blow.
again. blow.
the pulse from your chest, brings
life to meaning.
see how it combusts without
more effort. it knows what to do.
feel the heat rising from words.
let it puncture the cold.
then gather more language
to feed it.
now, rest easy as
you sleep this night.
in the embers, there are meanings.
in the burning, we are known.
by Richard Lighthouse
Richard Lighthouse is a contemporary writer and poet. He holds an M.S. from Stanford University. His work appears in The Penwood Review, West Hills Review, Mudfish, and many other places worldwide.
Richard has several e-books available for sale: The Age of Sound, Cactus Petting, Event Horizon, Evolution of a Poem, and more...
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