Posted in Poems, thoughts

the ceraunophile


the night beams

he shifts against the earth

and I am


the ceraunophile

reads the sky

back to the water clogged soil

and I am



the world aflame

he dreams of freedom

and I am


the ceraunophile

traces my jawline

sparks of radiant electricity slicing

and I am


-Eva M.M.

” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.”

Thank you all for reading. This poem came to me because I was reading this article about lightening and came across this word and after some investigating, I found out it basically means one who loves lightening and thunder. Though it can actually mean one who is physically sexually aroused by thunder and lightening and I did slightly add that idea to my poem, I mostly stuck with one who has a deep love and admiration for lightening. I wanted to keep this poem sparse in that I did not use punctuation and kind of just let the words flow instead of being separated so to speak. While I know this is far from a perfect poem I wanted to keep it this way for many reasons. In a way, it is kind of jarring and shaped like a strange lightening bolt. Let me know your questions, comments and thoughts though. Thanks.



I am a young and enthusiastic writer, fresh out of highschool and into college at IUSB. I babysit and work and live life to it's fullest. I write. I read. I do yoga. And plan to become. Yoga intructers as well. I grew up on a farm and can't,t wait to move back to the country in my tiny house I have already planned out. Sometimes I'm a little melodramatic but rarely. I'm a spiritual healer, a hopeless romantic, a book worm, and very nostalgic. Thanks for stopping by.

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