Find herein 3 pieces of poetry by myself…enjoy the shadows…
6 PM to 6 AM
From dusk ‘till dawn
Friendly society of the night
In many forms…in many places
Stealing, drinking away the nightly hours
They hide in a disguise
In night clubs…on street corners
Within your friends
And insidiously within innocent children;
Their facade is brutally simple
Moving to delight
Silent in the shadows
Soulless and standing ten feet away
A projection of what might be appealing
…Seductive and debase…
Covering the lurking creature that hunts
In the backwoods of the mind;
Slight of hand faceless faces
Hypnotic, mesmerizing, blind to the sight
Timeless sameness you’ve met before
As they die as the dawn rises
Springing up when the sun falls
Sitting in the recesses of your sleepy eyes
Fleeting phantoms of the imagination;
Once they sat on victims
Now more cunning; they sit on lounges
Still they drain
Although the substance has changed
To the pocket…the mind…passions to be hawked
Rewriting the dialogue
With advertiser’s skill
They’re changing with the times
Still the essence remains the same.
The Fall of Night
Alice is the sliver of silver
…when she dreams
Between the sheets of mercury
Eyes eclipse by the fall of night
As the shroud of sleep descends
Fading darkness harking at daylight
As she wakes to the other side
The slicing sickle scraps the clouds
Surrounded by the fire of flaming tongues
…speaking in silence
They ensnare with spindling strings
Hooking crystal drops from the eyes of heaven
To salt the earth for merging streams
Gathering to join with other distant dreams
Named as sorrows in shadows
Repeating in shallow graves
Calling out at things darkness had done
Answered by fierce winds that howled
Into gateways between the worlds
To the heart of the sliver of silver
…when she dreams
Lost Eden?
Once there were vast herds of them,
Grazing across the landscape of life,
Slowly moving forward in unison,
Following the days’ fall and rise,
Partaking in the glories of sustenance,
–but that was yesterday–
–and long ago in memory–
What we see today are bygone ghosts,
Lifting their weary skulled heads,
Sightless to what the future gives,
Too insubstantial to have an influence,
Residing only in the shadows of yesterday,
–but I see them still on the horizon–
–and distant now like thunder–