Grieving spread out beyond five
No candle melts truly—the terra that you love
Just recycles in the light
Serenity meets us often— by a fervent invite
In dimensions, twilight ash
And comets of agate blues,
Body language that gives away clues.
Hold the sun down, quietly untie these eyes.
Fill these lungs with a vividness of spirit metal petals
We — the crucibles of change,
Pillows of basalt.
Tiny remnants of dinosaur bones.
Suffering into existence.
The remains of relentless urges,
Floating in our eyes and
Flowing in our mouths.
Breathe and speak no more.
As the solar flowers bloom in our veins.
Suffocating these dreams into blue.
As magic spun stars speak to us in silence.
Alchemy—taking us to the end of time.
In the ashen light, venus’s hazel glow ring,
Peeks out tonight
Near the White Cliffs of Dover, boney traces of Wollastonite
Again on the edge,
I grasp a clump of what is tangible
Beneath my thoughts of decay,
A sweet visage still lingers
And keeps the Bardo at bay
For all those weeks of pixelated entertainment,
The last of those hypnotic hours
I pulled you deeper into the sedative darkness
On the back of your elbows, in agony you waited
Like water droplets dripping down the Windowpane
Imprinted forever, the pleasure I gave
Confluent in my mouth,
Tonight I taste the turmeric essence of
Everything you told
That endearing echo remains
The nickname that gave
Oh “little one, little one”
Eventually must age
The thread frays
Like an untouchable
Covered in ashes of the thousands
From the same fire of the pyre
An atlas, we all must toil
Art by: Gregory Colbert
Not for the faint of the heart,
To lean into the longing
The heavy metallic dust
In the moonlit misery
I see it now,
The “Golden Girl” with
Obscure passion towards the seductive thread
Of a strayed friend
I’m pierced into these toxic platitudes
Yet, my heart races for that final rest
Pulsating in my head
Have favor in me red
Even though their love will never come
Please don’t close the valves
Om Tare Tuttare Ture Soha
I love what her music always resonated in my soul. As a teenager, many nights when I couldn’t articulate my despair, my depression…
I would replay her songs over and over. Artist like her made me feel less alienated to these contorted emotions.
I know she suffered with bipolar depression as I do and many others. And it is heartbreaking. I (we) do not know how she died. But we know a bit on how she lived. And it was through making beautiful songs with her soaring Irish voice, that cuts through to clarity in a day gone bad.
These are only a few of my favorite songs.
RIP Dolores O’Riordan 💔