The Lamp
The Lamp is a poem written by Theodore Parodine, a brooding intellectual who crafts every word with care. You won’t find him speaking at the open stage nights in Rost – he’ll share his words in the shadowed corners of the tavern after the amateur poets have called it a night. It is featured in Ansparian Verse – Volume 1, available on Amazon.
The brightness of the lamp I’ll later light
Awaits the dark in which it will be born.
To stay, for several hours, with me more –
A journey it shan’t take ’til I requite.
By bathing fibrous cords in oil so dear,
And sparking flames to be its next attire.
Thus, slowly burning dark within its fire
As wisps of smoke expand as they appear.
A gentle breeze doth tendrils elevate
And bears the scent of Bergamot within.
The eve arrives and shadows now begin,
With subtle waves of vertigo innate.
My eyes begin their focus to reject
The overwhelm of other scents embrace.
Against my cheeks, my hands caress my face
As I must strive to keep my intellect.
The twin moons amplify my feeble mind.
Or three, or one, confess I not to know.
But surely, by the lamp’s hypnotic glow,
Elation in these bliss-soaked moments find.
Be I another day away from now,
And not this moment in which I exist,
My present and my future would desist –
Another born from seeds I disavow.
You May Also Like
From Alexander’s Desk – 6/9/2026
Festival of Kinship