That barren silence, heaving and heavy-
kept finding its way into the roaring holocaust of my dismemberment like spasmodic headaches biting the sanity of time,
My brain rattled in my head trying to turn it into rhyme.
Dawn had risen again to go poaching in night's orchards
And moon in wide-eyed surprise was shocked to be an accomplice,
That orchestra of the night began to sing a muted litany-
and chance birthed constancy that left me in my epiphany.
The humming of the evening gave way to a stunning night,
For darkness dressed in regal light and starkness portrayed in pulsing might,
The night holds a beauty that the day misses in all its splendor,
These ululations ushered me to sleep under moon's gentle gaze.
- Frank
About the Creator
Praise Frank
I've been writing poetry for some years now, I joined to share my pieces and hopefully connect with brilliant minds on here. This is my therapy.
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Violence Begets
"Any last words, cowboy?" "None you'd understand, sodbuster." "Funny. That's Marshall Sodbuster to you. But I meant some last nugget that would help us in the adjudication of the myriad offenses counted against you and your gang. I wasn't asking for penitence."
By Adam Diehl4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (8)
Brilliantly written
This is very well-written. I like the progress in the poem - starting as horrifying but slowly showing the beauty of night.
You really should write more. Your spectacular work only being in one story truly is a crime.
Is this the section to praise Frank?? All kidding aside. Your initial entry from what I see here on this site is an incredible work and I was delighted at your cadence and spectacular use of verse. Are you sure you’re not a seasoned pro at this stuff… My first poem here was like, “Roses are Red, Violets are..”. Lol. Truly, you have talent my friend and must continue to grace us with your inner thoughts and visions of the world around you. But just to be safe, I’m still gonna have the staff here check your birth certificate, because I’m starting to get that feeling of when you’re in the Little League World Series, and the opposing Pitcher has a full length beard and is a good foot taller than the rest of his teammates. Don’t worry my friend.. There is no age limitations amongst this raucous crowd. In fact, I recall a few years ago a gentleman who was 110 years old and constantly submitted poems about a myriad of physical ailments. It amazed me how descriptive he was about, Back Pain, Catheters, Diaper Changes, and lost Dentures.. This dude was a prolific writer and submitted at least 5 poems a day putting most of us to shame. Funny thing was, after a few months I finally reached out to him and asked, where all his inspiration was emerging from and how he came upon the Poetry Site. He replied back, “Poetry site, I thought this was the Doctors and Nurse’s assistance request form here at the Gentle Whispers Hospice facility.. Anyways, welcome aboard and keep up the good work!! Tony
Incredibly written well done
Really cool vibe! Love how you capture the chaos and calm of night—such a perfect mix of dreamy and intense!✨
Keep giving and present what's new now
The metaphors here are so well done--seamless. And too true the darkness has its necessary role to play in nature and in life. As a reminder, it shows up on a regular 😁 Powerful poetic reminder, my friend!