Dorian Nightingale


Kayo, interrupted and I speak a different language. 
Transported to the panic of pressing conversation
And eternity is suddenly betrayed. 
I lose myself. 
And the spell, hard earned, is broken. 
The                 part connecting me with him, gone.
Leaving my speech a token gesture, a superficial discourse,
A disinterest that trips off the tongue. 
Words emerge, trickle and flow 
Not knowing what they say amongst the meanings they convey.
Kayo, interrupted and I speak a different language.


And perhaps I never wanted to light my fire that way. The friction of
Sticks within textbooks and booklets, the instructions concurred by 
Many teachers and tutors, conveying the way to fashion a flame – the 
Stages I’d follow that adhered to a frame. The scheme, it seemed, had been 
Laid out before me. The means precise with no deviating recourse – it was 
Faultless and forged into one perfect mantra, telling me straight with 
No need for an error. 

But my wont was to synch it with the shyness of my instinct. To let it peek 
Beside a side-view and seek it out myself. To uncover such things in my own
Inherent manner, to spend time on my insight, to find out if it works. 
And to know that it hurt when alternatives fail, the setbacks of initiative 
That curtail a better trail. I so yearned to spur a spontaneous nerve, for a 
Lightning bolt moment. Impulsive. Emboldened. A quickfire action that would
Mark the right adjustment, glow the smouldering charcoal thus igniting golden 

Dorian has always been fascinated by emotive language and the impact of textures and harmonies within words. His inspiration in writing stretches across a broad range of artistic influences from Caravaggio to Radiohead. After having several poems published, he is currently working towards his first collection of poems. He is a graduate from New Writing South, Brighton, England as well as being a Masters graduate from the LSE where he studied Politics and Psychology. When not writing he is mostly clearing up after his teenage children and then recovering by immersing himself in music and cursing the effects of old rugby injuries. 

He lives in Sussex, England with his family.

Flights, Issue Four, April 2022