Long Weight

By Tom Warner

No dusk or dawn, no day, no time—
just a dimm'd glow glaring out,
window-powder flickerfrozen,
constant hum, forever. Always was.
Streetlight, soft flakes float,
Moonbright,
Nightmorning? Morningnight?
Forgot to ask, forgotten where,
Sleep slunk—weeks, months—
before time collapsed, grew, shrunk,
blurred edges,
walls closing, closer, tight,
till breath is a thought,
and thoughts shrink soft, small.
Eyes shutopen, body still,
mind spins awake in darkwhirl,
a heavylightness, restless stillness,
same pale-yellowtired,
same hum, flat-light—
See the shadows? Sharp, then gone.
Contrast, sharp-soft,
Onset, mindmelt.
Tired’s long gone,
bone-deep, coldwrapped, thickened,
frozen slow through marrow. Heavy, held still, can’t touch.
One more clock glance—
Numbers melting, slipping—
Two, seven, four, eleven? falling, failing meaning,
Tick-tock spinning, never moving—
round and round, pulling weight,
never-ending, just a stuck hum,
an alwayswas.
Everything soft, flickering, blurring.
Don’t blink too slow—
vanished if I cared—or didn’t.
Wintermaybe, cold forever,
the same warm light—or is it?
Time mocks, dreaming, seeing,
Did the light change? Or not—
I can’t—clock once—dream once—stop—
What was? What is?
Glance—
Winter? No—
Vanish? Vanished. Blink too slow—
or fast—what was—warm—light's breath—
I can’t—
Before? When?—Nothing maybe,
or—
Nothing—blur—stop—tock, humhum—tick.

Tom Warner is a filmmaker, designer and artist based in Svalbard. His work blends visual storytelling with philosophical and human themes, often through collaborative, process-led projects. He also supports visiting filmmakers and is a licensed drone pilot.