fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry

Northern Lights

Couple watching the Northern Lights (Aurora Borealis), Reykjavik, Iceland

Come here,
Sit next to me,
Don’t leave me tonight.

Watch, as the emeralds melt
in the turquoise colored sky
and the winds of winter
dry the sky’s wounds
through mellow howlings.

This cold is neither bright or dark.
like our love, it is mysterious and tasteless.

Come raise a glass of wine to our love,
let it spill and purify the snow.

Let it drown us, till we become reflections,
aligning perfectly in infinite dusted mirrors.

Don’t leave me tonight,
Come here,
Sit next to me.

beauty, Death, Fiction & Poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry


sun bathes in snow,
a few hues melted
to eventually freeze
in the sky

a crepuscular light,
a white grave of memories,
that smells like burnt wood
and fresh dark wine
by the fireplace

a white sheet of blindness,
over a glass of silenced darkness
fire devours
the aching coldness,
the melody,
appeases even gods,

the fangs of frost
grope the petals of the flowers,
some will perish this winter.
intertwining beauty and death
both of which I seek,
but at different times
in my life

fiction and poetry, Poetry, Writings

The Kid

2014 © Christopher Martin

2014 © Christopher Martin

A Blizzard,
where winds howl,
like a direwolf,
missing his master,
where light is consumed,
even in the layers of white,
no living seen out,
no dead can be seen,
only sheer darkness,
ruling in the cold.
a boy cries strolling,
in the snow,
they say he was lost,
a few years ago,
his cries are not of pain,
but a whimsical laughter,
to bring out the living,
and play in snow,
those who go,
never come back,
but their cries are heard,
like the howlings,
every same day,
the child got lost.