Ariel Kraitzick Poems

The world burned

It was a pleasure to burn.
To see things eaten, to see things blackened and changed.
...

My fingers drift uncertainly
mind humming
pencil tapping
thoughts tip-toing across a wooden floor at midnight
...

I riffle through a paper bag
as the lights begin to dim
my hand contorts to fit its shape
bending in the dulling light
...

when the wind comes to life
and twirls round the dancing curtains
in a storm of grey
like a puppet-master welcoming in the cold
...

When the heart aches

When the heart aches
Pumping your veins
...

This is a song
a song for the restless mind
that ticks in time with the ticking stopwatch
that dances with the hand of the grandfather clock
...

the moon's falling tears
highlight the contours
of his
bony
...

She sweeps the floor-
with a broomstick
sweeps the dust from under our feet
...