Made a fool of myself

Feeling sort of stupid in a number of ways,
made a fool of myself, no surprise there I think
but I'm getting too and too tired for lies.
Last night I was shrieking, not out loud, just inside,
took a walk, on the tame side, out side
on the still warm cobbles that are buried in sand
and the ants, they are crawling,
I should have carried a shawl as a night breeze
crept fingers of fright on my skin.
Love was thin on the ground and the sound
of cicada's etc, well we don't get them here,
sometimes crickets and things that dart,
I felt from the start, now I'm here in the dark.

It got me to thinking, pondering I suppose,
I'm not too sure where I'm going or even
where I come from, a sort of crisis of kinds;
did I mention, I made a fool of myself.
Oh not so drastically that anyone will notice
but I let myself down, the defences were low.
So I walk in the moonlight, with just the steam
from a brew, that burns like a fire, consuming my heart.
I could hear the sound of waves on the shore,
can't see as my home was built in a dip,
I watched a pipestril bat; they're unique you know,
so fragile, small, they scare the hell out of me,
brought up on stories of them getting stuck in your hair,
but I love how they fly, as they haven't a care.

I'm getting too old for these sleepless nights,
I feel footsore and tired and moonlight doesn't help,
I'm scared of the click and the clack of a the catch,
I live in a place where the east wind causes channels
as it sweeps up the drive, trapped by the trees,
I'm a coward you see, I shake from the knees
and my breath becomes shallow, and I swallow in pain.
I'm a stain on the escutcheon of all I could be,
funny how the night time makes me anaylse me.
I made a fool of myself, not to anyone else
and now the sun has gone in and its beginning to rain,
I wish it was easy to just get rid of the pain,
a click of the fingers and of course ants don't bite!
Its just that I'm scared in the middle of the night.
and I wish it was easy and not give a damn.





Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 476 times
Written on 2012-05-07 at 18:17

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josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
The word rhythm you use here leaves me hearing someone hyperventilating. the trip up in lines three in both the first and third stanzas leaves me hearing the unchecked rambling of rage. This is very well written filled with tension and stress. I can hear it as a soliloquy spoken by a woman on a dark stage; almost Shakespearean in style

Joe
2012-05-09


countryfog
A universal theme well and truly written, sort of meandering thoughts and emotions, the sense of movement but to nowhere in particular other than to follow one's pain to wherever it leads. We do look outward during day and light and inward at night and darkness . . . and sometimes the darkness is within us.
2012-05-08



Your poems lately have a distinctively different tone. I like them all. The more recent ones have a bite to them that is irresistable, poignant, and bold.

Yes, it's the nights when we are at our most vulnerable. When we're away from our jobs and the other roles we play in the day. We meet ourselves face to face.
2012-05-08



What is that Van Morrison sings—something like:

... well, here it comes
here comes the night
the long, long, and lonely night...

so true. It was not hard for me to identify with this poem.
Night time is the write time.
2012-05-07


ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
A truly good write , Elle.
Ken
2012-05-07


shells
I really enjoyed this "conversational" piece and your excellent writing means I can "see" the senario. A great line "I'm a stain on the escutcheon of all I could be and funnily enough the following line I can identify with.
2012-05-07