small gods

small gods.
gods without a church,
without a congregation,
passing the time pounding the pavements,
sharing tossed away cigarettes with magicians looking for a stage.
magicians with only leftover magic,
swiped from dumpsters,
keeping warm with glamorless dragons,
with flames barely enough to light a trash can.
not enough to dream as dragons do,
of fire and gold and the might to rule the skies,
only a memory tint left,
like marmalade on your fingers.
small gods.
haunting the rocks and the once power full rivers,
passing hills steeped in hot and pungent history,
but long left to cool and forget,
where now only lizards visit the slatepile shrines.
sometimes a junkie fairy lurches by,
weighed down by unfamiliar gravity and mundane grubbiness,
exchanging remember when we’s…
like marbles
or thimbles…
crumpled like old newspaper, smoothed and read and crumpled again.
small gods.
small lives,
small gaps in the empty spaces that once overflowed,
and small magicks, like falling stars.
a brief reminder in that dying radiance,
that these meager lights once illuminated the universe,
once danced to the music of the spheres,
and once worshipped at the mighty feet of the now faded,
now unremembered,
small gods.

About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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6 Responses to small gods

  1. One of my favorite from you. Stunning.

  2. Glorious poem! Must have it 🙂

  3. Reblogged this on Jane Dougherty Writes and commented:
    Sorry to be going wild on the reblogs this morning, but there is such a lot of gorgeous stuff in my inbox. This poem of Jaye’s is a stunner.

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