Of Dark

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Of Dark

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

When you’re done reading this

please, just close your eyes, tight

bow your head perhaps,

and please, just, try and

remember.

 

Now listen to me.

 

The sun is black right now.

 

And this time don’t blame the moon

either okay, it’s not her fault

leave her out of it this time.

 

But the day star is done, it’s just a vast

foreboding lump of anemic coal.

 

His wick just faded.

 

You won’t know for another minute or so.

 

But it has.

 

El Sol is just played out

he’s blanched and washed up

colorless, depleted, and expended

he’ ghastly.

 

It’s okay though, we just consumed him

with our needs that’s all, with our thirst

for his warmth, with our lust for his

compliance to mark our skin with his

golden branding iron.

 

Or maybe he just got tired of people saying

that he’s hotter than hell, who knows?

 

I don’t really damn blame him.

 

Do you?

 

Perhaps he just got tired of never being

able to lighten up our lives.

 

That was, always his fault you know.

 

Wasn’t it?

 

I mean we didn’t invent darkness right?

That was never our idea.

 

I’m pretty sure, that was here when we arrived,

right?

 

I mean some people like darkness

and all kinds of scary s**t like that.

 

But me? Eh, not so much really.

 

I deal with it because I don’t have a choice

but to be honest with you I’m not all that fond

of shadow though, which is kind of funny,

since I am one.

 

I was born

in the womb of nature.

 

My life, is a cave.

 

A dwelling of dun, and ill light, murk,

obscurity and vagueness.

 

I mean sure, I’m kind of fun to explore now

and again but don’t ever fall in love with one of us.

 

We’re dark, and dank, mysterious, and even

treacherous at times.

 

If you still just can’t stay away from me,

bring a rope at least, and maybe a match, believe me,

you’re going to need it.

 

Recently for the first time in my life,

I had some company.

 

She came in through the front door, during a storm.

 

Well, not so much a door as it is an opening.

 

But there she was, standing in the mouth of

my world, scared, and wet, beautiful, and vulnerable

yet stronger than anything I’ve ever known,

holding a torch, asking, “is anybody there?”

 

It grew quiet.

 

A drip fell.

 

And I coughed out a bat that was in a hurry for a

blind date.

 

She finally made a fire, and took off her clothes

to dry them.

 

I averted my eyes, well at least one of them.

 

She found some mushrooms to eat, and she pulled

out a pen, and some paper, and she began to write.

 

I couldn’t tell what she was writing, but, she was crying.

I want to say that I felt sorry for her, but something tells me

she doesn’t like it when people do that.

 

But I still did.

 

I felt so good that she felt safe within my being.

I had never felt that before.

 

I could tell that she was a poet.

I could see it in her smile.

 

And I just knew that whatever she has written in her life

that she wrote it from places like this, places of refuge, real,

or in her undying spirit.

 

And that if you ever get to read them they will lead you

right back here, to the soft recesses she keeps protected

in the corners of her soul.

 

She finally made a bed of soft branches and drifted off to sleep.

 

I don’t think I was ever happier, than I was that night

watching her smile and even tear as she dreamt.

 

I blistery wind cut through my skin waking me up the next morning

finding ashes for a fire, and a note from her writing pad dancing around

in the air.

 

She was gone.

 

And in many ways, so was I.

 

I don’t think I care to be a cave anymore.

 

Oh and you know what; maybe it was an eclipse after all.

 

A finger of light just snaked in, and touched my face.

 

And now I can see that someone wrote something on my wall.

 

It says, “To whence and whither, no one is more afraid than he

who won’t come out from the… “

 

What does that mean, I just wish I knew?

 

Oh god, if only they had finished their thought,

to just once be free, from these jaws of the dark.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Cherrie Palmer]

I loved the way you brought this to a close

[cest la vie]

This is amazing..
You have managed to write a story within a poem and that my friend is no easy feat..
As a reader I am right there, in the dark, peering over the shoulders of him and her.

Simply put, stunning....

[just rose.]

I like the story you tell here.

[Stammers]

Where did you get this idea? I loved the voice you used, it was elegant and wise as it was personal and humorous.

'And I coughed out a bat' - Ah, such mental images in my head. It made me snort. Brilliant.

It was just something else, and beautifully written as always, you are a master sir, I love it.

[G. Marie"floating on an..]

this poem is very profound just amazing I am at a loss of words to describe the feeling of this poem except that I loved it!!!!!!

[Gandré]

So good to see this style of narrative poetry. I adored it. Thank you for your review of my new poem, much appreciated.
Regards,
lara gandré

[Sabbath_Nikole]

That last line is fantastic! I love how you wrote in such colloquial terms. Like you were really having a conversation with this charming little cave, who doesn't care at all to be a cave. I enjoyed the story, and the begining with the loss of the sun, the loss of light, and the girl coming in, bringing hope and light of the next day. Maybe it was just an eclipse after all.....

[Narnie]

Ethereal... you made me well up with the beauty of her and the naivety of 'him'. This is one of the most touching pieces of writing I have read lately. I want to read more to see if you write like this all the time but most of me just wants to walk away for a while with this one in my head. Think I'll do that for now. I hope you expand on this and keep the thoughts going. They feel like your people.

[Millionth Muse]

My favorite part about this piece was the conversational nature...you were really "talking" to the reader, but you were doing it in a poetic way. This is a very modern, experimental style, probably not for everyone, but I like it; it spoke to me. I like the idea of light and dark being played through this piece, and the way that the mysterious finger of light finally snakes in at the end...it's a rollercoaster of human emotion, a stream of conciousness, and that's quite difficult to do well in a poem. I have to also, in closing, give you kudos for your imagery; you brought to life some things that I've never really seen before. Possibly a little too much movement in terms of line breaks...you might be able to close it up a bit here and there, but overall, I really enjoyed this one.

[Poetic Beauty]

Brillant the way you waited till the end of the poem to tell what this creature was. The way you made the cave speak was wonderful. I don't think I would want to be a cave the way you described the cave feeling in this poem. Great picture painting.