Poetry & Prose — TYLER BLODGETT

The city may never sleep, but there are spaces where it breathes. Where the sirens surrender their urgency. Where people walk without purpose, encapsulated by a cradle of lights. It is here that our thoughts can wander beside us. To be eight million and one.

December 07, 2018

Alone, beneath a stone bridge in Central Park, a man paints the air with the warm tones of his saxophone. The pearl keys, long faded amidst the worn brass, showing the time and love that had been given both to and through this instrument. I sat for three songs as each rolled into the other, the soft undulating waves of harmonies echoing off the cold stones, vibrations cast far beyond the light. The man barely opened his eyes, and when he did it was not to see, but just a fleeting sense of awareness as he stood, beneath the bridge, illuminated by sound.

November 28, 2018

November 26, 2018

Within pages I have lived a thousand lives,
I have become generations of souls,
Each one fashioned by words,
So the mind could feel
What the heart perceives.
In books I have loved and lost,
I have mourned for deaths penned in ink,
Black blood tracing lines on paper
Across hands grasped to leather bound covers,
With the tenderness of lovers.
Asleep beside them,
These books become my home,
Their stories infinitely renewed;
Forever never alone...

I fear not the infinite silence any more than I fear sleep. Neither holds the promise of awakening. It is but these fickle moments, this flash of light amidst the void, these numbered breaths that I revere. May I plant seeds that nourish those other than my own. May the love I share be all that carries on. May my life mean more than words on a headstone.

November 21, 2018

There is a fire within me that I will not share. It is mine. It is where my love and fury combine. It is the chaos that commands my steps and the flame within my eyes. It is the best of me and the worst. It is the fear that I savor. I once gave it a… — There is a fire within me that I will not share. It is mine. It is where my love and fury combine. It is the chaos that commands my steps and the flame within my eyes. It is the best of me and the worst. It is the fear that I savor. I once gave it away, cast like pearls to the ocean. Never again. You may scorch my skin, but you will never quell the fire within. I will burn my heart to cinders before my soul surrenders.

November 05, 2018

Hush, my love, the day is done. Surrender your trifles to the setting sun. Each dusk must always have its dawn. But right now, let us be still and count the ignited treetops as they give way to the night. Those totems with their tempered might, that stand in darkness as they do in light. Let us learn to inure our hearts like the mighty oak, for the short nights and the long winters. Let us blaze in the sunlight that we soak and let not the wind reduce us to splinters. My love, let us be for the sake of being, and if that being says hush, let us listen. For each day is a lifetime and each moment a lesson. Hush, my love, the day is done. It is time for surrender and sleep.

October 17, 2018

If we could see into each others windows we'd realize that we are more alike than we are different. But instead we use fear as a curtain and call it identity, creating barriers that deny the entry and effusion of light. But what defines us divides us and darkens the mosaic of life. Undraw your curtains and cast open your windows. The light only blinds those who dwell in darkness.

October 12, 2018

One of the most damaging lies that we tell ourselves is that the way we feel is entirely our own. That no one could understand you, as if you've developed a consciousness outside of the spectrum of human emotion. You haven't. This should bring you comfort. You are surrounded by people who have felt what you feel. Who have loved deeply and lost dearly, who are burdened with inexplicable anxiety, who cry and laugh for no apparent reason. And while their circumstances may differ from yours, the feelings are the same. So stop singling yourself out. The enigma you profess is in all of us. Mystery is in our very nature. It is empathy that allows us to bridge our oceans. Without it we truly are alone.

September 21, 2018

For years I have stood at the edge of my woods, my head swaying along the endless horizon. I have watched the sun pass through every branch, I know the shadows by name. I have shared my breath with every tree, in return they have nurtured me. When I could not bear the silence they sang to me. When my hands trembled, they steadied me. It is here that I learned temperance. It is here that I became still. And now it is time to step forth. My purpose was never to remain. I have learned what I needed from solitude, and that peace I shall carry with me. But it is in the wild that I belong and into the wild I shall go. I am leaving; no, I am returning. This is a rebirth.

September 20, 2018

She was a midnight vixen, born from shadows, a shapeshifter, drifting through neon lights. The click of her heels snapped like jazz music to the rhythm of the A-train.

September 14, 2018

She was a force of nature; an incarnation, unphased by the gaze of us mere mortals. Her eyes fixed upon ethereal spaces, she looked right through me with her infinite stare.

She walked out of my life as swiftly as she walked in. My breath still hanging from her scarlet lips like the cigarette's kiss.