Madison Porter Poems

There may be a storm, a maelstrom of dark clouds obstructing the light from our vision,
or perhaps the damning pollution that ravages our lungs creates a muddy haze over the sky
But they’re there
They’re always there
...

The river flows
Carrying vivid depictions of incandescence and gloom
Ceaseless and unhesitant in nature
The rushing water never slows
...

Before there was luminescence, light,
The glorious entity the mind inexplicably seeks
With such desire,
To which life and joy are eager acolytes
...

As your evanescent life pours from your writhing body
As light drips from your curled fingers and is superseded
with an ethereal void
As your mind heart and soul give out
...

He is the coiled strength of each fibre of muscle
He is the lurid tableau of colours that shine from supernovae
He is the ungraspably powerful fire that burns in the heart of each star
He is the berceuse the wind pulls from it lips as it mourns through the trees
...

A long cracks scars the dark sky
Like an eggshell, in which we are upon the yolk looking out
And the rift glows a blinding white
As if starlight seeps from the wound
...

Well well, what's your decision?
What will you do?
This or that, here or there?
It's up to you
...