Monday, January 31, 2011

In a Pool of Starlight

                      There is a man
in his darkest hour, alone;
only the slightest of movements
by his weary chest betrays
the unforgiving, harsh truth:
that he is still alive.

                      He breathes, he sits
in a pool of starlight, gently falling
through a solitary window. He is
curled up, knees held close,
huddling for warmth, denying
the murderous cold.

                  And the odd chill
passes as a lonely tear, thawing
quietly, shivers unsteadily by his
frosty right eye. The broken dawn
eases its way through the glass
like a thief.

                   The probing light
casts its criminal gaze as beams
resolve from the inky shadows.
It is an old house, broken-hearthed -
fireplace silenced, mantel memories
long forgotten.

                   It is lost in time:
swirling, dusty rays pierce through
gaps between broken tiles, grasping,
fanning across the room, searching
as the morning sun strides across
the changing sky.

                         Now the afternoon
winds mock its geriatric frame, whistling
through cracks, shoving the old walls,
and as the supports sway a rope,
hanging, slices the beaming sunlight
like a demented knife.

                            There is pain
in the house; the man remains
still, seated alone by the setting sun
in the window, streaked by watery
tears. His empty eyes travel again
to the hanging rope.

                            Now it is his
darkest hour as the midnight chill
begins anew. The man is still
alive, still alive: his weary
eyes come to rest upon the old,
comforting noose.

Also posted at Big Tent Poetry. More poems.

10 comments:

  1. This is a wonderful poem, unfinished or not. Thank you for posting it.

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  2. Yes- I really like it... the mysterous tone lends itself to the (lack of) ending.

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  3. I like the mystical, mysterious feeling of the last line that leads out of the poem. Unfinished? Probably not.

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  4. thanks for posting! i admire the posting of unfinished pieces (commented some about it at big tent, too).

    good job! keep going!

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  5. I agree! This is so mysterious...I really, really, really want to know who he is! And the scene is sad and beautiful at the same time. It could be finished just the way it is...just adds to the mystery...or you could do more!

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  6. Thanks for the comments, everyone. :) And yes, I could have just closed the poem off without going much further, but there's a picture I want to paint. :)

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  7. Perhaps a series of individually incomplete poems, building the thought...

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  8. I like Barbara's idea.

    Thanks for bringing us with you.

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