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Re: Re: Kabu,
posted by
Kabu
on January 21, 2016 at 1:58 PM
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Re: Annicita,
Thanks for this... I see your stadium experience here, another kind of theater! I imagine old footballers now drifting in the huge drafty spaces...
posted by
Ciel
on January 20, 2016 at 9:34 AM
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Re: Kabu,
Well, it turns out for now to be left over brew from many years ago, but revised a little here and there... something TAPS reminded me of.
posted by
Ciel
on January 20, 2016 at 9:33 AM
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Re: Theatre Ghost
Beautiful! Haunted and haunting!
Thanks for sharing this!
posted by
Ciel
on January 20, 2016 at 9:31 AM
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NOCTURNE
This midnight restlessness of mind
that drives me room to room
is once again awake:
when all the world is dark and dreaming
it drives me softly,
something seeking…
A child in the window frame
gazing out on night-times’s day,
held in thrall by lunar light
that casts the night-lands soft and fey…
Child enwrapped in arms, entranced,
over moths that dash and dance
about the silent night-light in the hall…
our fascination for
that solitary spot of misplaced sunlight shared...
It is our secret, the moths' and mine...
Yet always there is dread--
a door will suddenly gape wide!
then, the giants,
breaking the night
with angry questions
and answerless,
will cast me back
aggrieved,
ashamed,
alone and very small
to fade into the heavy dark
that holds no sleep nor magic
nor any ease of mind…
The years of passing childhood,
a girl approaching womanhood
underneath the caustic eyes
of the ones who criticize,
who daily torment
and despise…
The one night’s daring
loud despair
replied to with
two aspirins’ warmest love…
I could not tell Them
when They finally came
where the real pain lay…
Now, when I, restless, leave my bed
to roam and wander room to room,
I know the one who sleeps behind me
neither questions nor condemns;
I know he loves me not because he has to
but because he has the choice.
My wanderings are mine, again,
my wonderings that will come when they will...
and in all the hours of darkness
the nightlight burns as brightly
as any dancing moth could ask.
posted by
Ciel
on January 20, 2016 at 9:28 AM
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Re: Thanks,TAPS,
I have special memories of the nightlights of my childhood.
I will find that poem, and post it here with this prompt... promptly.
posted by
Ciel
on January 20, 2016 at 9:16 AM
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The last of the crowd is gone
The cleaning crew finish
Long after the lights are off
We wander under a single bulb
Reliving moments from our past
Our glory days on the stage
posted by
Annicita
on January 16, 2016 at 6:39 PM
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Two wonderful comments here. Pat's is WOW.
I am longing to read what is brewing in your mind.
posted by
Kabu
on January 15, 2016 at 12:05 PM
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Theatre Ghost
We do not say that name while wandering
amongst the empty chairs
soaking up the vibes and scents of
recent sitters, where
the light is faint. Frail shadows guide
these one-time players,
who raise a ghostly glass to toast
the cast now working here.
posted by
Pat_B
on January 15, 2016 at 6:46 AM
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When sons were little we always had a ghost light/night light at the top of the stairs so they wouldn't fall down them trying to make it to the bathroom in the middle of the night.
posted by
TAPS.
on January 14, 2016 at 10:38 PM
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