In The Open Abyss
Poem.
I wonder,
oh how I wonder —
not about your ability
or your presence,
though in truth, they do elicit
reverence and admiration.
~
The secrets we share with you,
the ones that would shock,
cause empires to rise
or crumble and burn to the ground,
ruin relationships,
devastate and implicate.
~
When I promised to change my ways,
prostrated, head down,
my oath and the lies I told —
you saw and heard,
at twilight,
as the strippers and sex workers
work their trade,
use their bodies,
put on the red light and the red lipstick.
~
The smugglers and underbelly
push their product,
steal innocence,
even at the expense of their own,
while the lawmakers
and overseers of the land
you shine on
make plans,
deals and decisions,
shaping the world,
causing pain and suffering,
raising armies against armies.
~
You can’t disrupt
or interfere with —
even if you wanted —
because you are
celestial, astral,
hanging in mid-space,
in the open abyss…
~
As the cheaters,
the schemers,
the backroom rulers
make their plays —
destiny and fate
in their hands —
the silent wishes
and hushed prayers
of hope and heartache
that I myself know too well.
~
The intimacy of lovers,
the firsts,
screams, la petite mort,
newborn gasping
for breath and love,
adoration and care.
~
New loves, old bonds,
illicit trysts and the complicit,
quiet demise of some,
loud and distressing of others —
disputes and disagreements,
convalescences and condolences,
spiritual awakenings
and chemical inebriations,
nightshift workers and night-owl drifters,
whistleblowers and the underhanded corporate thieves.
~
You shift your gaze above us all,
shine your pale light over us all.
Though we may never address you
or owe to you the praise you earn,
you shine and are present,
then travel again —
always moving, always sharing,
never letting the darkness
stay too long, unaccompanied.
~
(As poets, songwriters,
playwrights and artists,
we try and try
try in vain to capture,
your majesty, your elegance
The dusted, bloated words
of mere mortals,
devoid of original thought.
Boring, dull beyond words
How can we ever do you justice?
Repeated ad nauseum,
Old, run-through metaphors
Allegories and analogies
How we fail and fall
from the outset
of any attempt
to capture
the mystery
magic
But what's the point?
We do it regardless
in vanity, we excel
because why not?
luna surgit et cadit,
luna nobis omnibus lucet.
luna numquam deficit,
luna nostra luna)
Latin for class
Latin for art
Latin for timeless reminders
Latin for pomposity
Latin because yawning isn't poetry
Yawning isn't art
Isn't staring in the open abyss
and considering the beauty of the eternal lantern
and not trying to capture it
~
But still we remember
~
As the night-light predators
stalk their prey —
but you never look away,
do you?
You just shine —
unmoved, eternal,
in the dark, open abyss.
*
Thanks for reading!
About the Creator
Paul Stewart
Award-Winning Writer, Poet, Scottish-Italian, Subversive.
The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection out now!
Streams and Scratches in My Mind coming soon!
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Comments (19)
This is fantastic, Paul. ⚡️💙Bill⚡️
"Yawning isn't art Isn't staring in the open abyss and considering the beauty of the eternal lantern and not trying to capture it" I love this concept of the "open abyss." liberating.
Congrats on the win 👏👏👏
There's such a murky darkness in your work lately, but I love the way you tease it out with positive emotions/ hope! It's so well laid out, Papa Paul!! Congrats on placing runner-up in the letters to the moon challenge!!
That phrase, "never letting the darkness stay too long, unaccompanied..." was soothing in places that needed it. Thank you once again for sharing your heart's vision Paul. Congrats on your leaderboard placement!
Wooohooooo congratulations on your win! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊
Seems only fitting that, as the last one to comment--and a fellow Runner of Up, no less--I should be the first to congratulate you on another Vocal accolade (Vocal-ade), sir 😎
Wow, amazing work. Flexing on us with the Latin, no less. Especially loved the part where you point out the dichotomy; in poetry, we view the moon as romantic symbol. But what depravities has the moon born witness to simply because it accompanies the dark when bad things are more easily achieved? Amazing take on the prompt, and unless they're looking for an ironic take on the existence of the "moon," think you might have smoked me here 😉
Just incredible poesy! This feels as close to a poem about every aspect of life beneath the quiet gaze of brother moon as one might dream of writing. Your honesty and heartbreak speak with clarion notes, Paul. It moved me, truly. I have already read one stunning entry to this challenge. This makes two. Good luck on the challenge!
You captured the stillness and brightness of a moonlit night very well at the end. I was so immersed it was like I was just looking at the moon myself!
This is a truly profound and expansive meditation on the Moon! It beautifully captures the tension between the Moon’s celestial neutrality and the intense human drama unfolding beneath its light.
"You never look away...you just shine - unmoved, eternal, in the dark, open abyss." Scottish is not my native tongue, but I'll dip into it a bit for you: Bloody hell, mate - this is just brilliant. Simply stellar poetry, all the way through. Whatever the judges pick, this is my winner.
Once again the King speaks 👑
Nicely done, Paul, deep and meaningful, but with the Paul diversion we have all come to love. (Latin for class etc.)
"Latin for class!" This is a moving tribute to the quietly shining observer above and a serrated attack upon insipid, formulaic attempts to pay the same tribute! Another sterling effort, my liege!
This is one way to describe the moon and the many ways to see the body in space. Good job.
An outstanding bit of free verse, Sir! I enjoyed the interjection of "Latin for pomposity". That gave me a chuckle!
Unmoved and eternal, so like a god. Well done!, loved the Latin and Latin commentary parts
This was so deeply intimate and reverent, Paul. Such a gorgeous piece :)