LOST FOR WORDS
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.
SPARKS
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 Sparks.
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.
Flight of the dragonfly 