night and books of lore
night and books of lorenight falls
shadows creep from
corners
-- same corners
birds sing their
evening songs
-- sun has gone
while Earth spins
on Her pin
as always
grey pool
fish tails ripple
still surface
stars pierce darkening
sky -- lights of their fires
burn a halcyionic
glow of many colours
quiet but for early autumn leaves
rustling
in
-- soft~warm night breeze
mists rise from forest mould
furtive scamperings
t-tiny four legged-s
do nighttime living exploits
dodging hunting owl's
talons
all must
eat
double helix busily
replicates itself
in all of Nature
one at a time
--------------
night's matrix
mix of warm dark
cool breezes
flow over ancient grounds
far away sounds
seem closer during dark of night
crickets play on
and on
closer at hand
from tinny speakers
Mozart piano concertos
are heard
city apartment
lights burning late
rats scurry alleys
and in walls
its tenant reads
from books of lore
suppositions by author
true or untrue
a toss-up
-------------
nighttime in arctic wastes
waits for thawing ice
to -- overwhelm
dry land to -- south
change a constant
nighttime
consistent
-- in absence of light
plots conceived
babies born
lovers make love
lonely -- still yet so
tenant still reads
yon books
yore entrenched
information -- fantasy like
leaves one wondering . . .
---------------
nighttime
lights illuminate
stairs -- to show the way
unneeded in daylight
wisps of imagination
visit while climbing
-- descending stairs
watch your step
----------------
men -- insane stay up late
building bombs
priests and preachers
feel guilt of preaching
-- know it's not true
poems launched
at midnight into ethers
you can't make this stuff
up ~ nonetheless there
---------------
try to conjure faces after dark
of those who made a difference
those who didn't
-- come to the fore
in the quiet ~ gazing at them
on memory's screen
gazing back sheer veil
from other side
blistering silence
ensues
just long enough
to say hello -- a recognition
air sparks twice
ethereal smokes twist, weave
. . . disappear
gone
-----------------
nighttime . . .
honey bees snug in their hives
dream of early morning flights
collecting nectar
only they know how to gather
for honey's glee
to be -- at all
a goodness
just because
---------------
books of lore written
-- abridged
abridged again
for
nighttime readers of same
stories written
facts at times distorted
for sake of -- extravagance
entertaining nonetheless
for the bored, tired
at least they are
-- reading
---------------
nighttime -- feast is spread
before multitudes
few partake ~ sleeping
ones who do come out in morning light
-- smiling
---------------
nighttime
desolation -- mid miracles
flowers dream at midnight
-- ignis fatuus
will 'o the wisp
delicate
composed
brought to see
for those who still see
wishing for all
to do just that
---------------
nighttime and books of lore
a woman weeps
for those gone
to never return
books of lore
erudition, knowledge
-- woman weeps
nonetheless
lost -- coming to
fore
not seen again
learned it all in a heart-beat
didn't have to come back
-- or maybe they are here
already . . .
teachers often heard
seldom listened to
--------------
back stairs squeak
louder at 0200
no matter care
in climbing
counting them
one-two-three
to the top
eighteen total -- twenty- times-day
made of wood -- the steps
from a tree
severed just above ground
years ago it fell -- was felled
its roots -- for a time wept
for its beautiful leaves
hole in its trunk where
family of owls lived
quite content
roots rotted
not before they told
of their trunk's felling
to other trees near
trees cannot run when
threatened with
the saw
stand proud -- even so
--------------
night -- guardian spirits watch
those they have chosen
-- have been told
to watch
Nature chooses
ones She wishes to
observe
above the rest . . .
---------------
for children of the sun
nighttime often a fearful
time -- we feel as strangers
in darkness where all night roamers
are quite at home
-- trees rest in dark silence
from light of day -- as sickle moon
dodges wispy clouds
shines a silvery light
on land without a sound
stars by billions -- its company
space -- cold place
infinity freezing
--------------
old associate -- life
often stalks nighttime
looking at death in the face
old friends -- these two
can't quite come to
agreement -- which one
shall
prevail
they
agree to disagree
as cat's paws -- silently
stalk each step
at midnight
through the house
night -- narrow place
midst its dark ~ mysterious
wondering -- waiting
for new light of day
breaks upon world
of many colours/shapes
once again
for eyes to see
-- emerging from night's
mouth of darkness
--------------
nothing lasts for long
-- fiction of lore
lasts -- so long as people
believe, are entertained
two sages pen chronicle
of lore in night
some truth
cunningly hidden
text adroit
in myth
clever -- duplicitous
and subtle
printed -- read by many
cults formed
free will doomed
diabolic take over -- hold sway
once a story
now doctrine
principle -- canon -- or stubborn
conviction
lasts as long as
people believe
or are
entertained
what is real for masses
-- is illusion
to
the sage
----------------
they who have not seen
nightfall
-- have a care
ere walking in dark
while speech of sky, plants,
roots, and dirt
grow --
more ancient
where once was garden
no shadow lay
vanished world -- only
in dreams exists
at least, there
no stain
seen on any growing
thing --
lore waxes
wanes
ages
pass
nighttime remains
the same
-- men are doomed
to -- forget
--------------------------------
clear night
moon glow
nearly smell its frozen
surface
as night never sleeps
being other side of day
draught of night air
oft nightmare seconds --
of endless time
-- night
or solemn slumber
for those who rest in dark
night stays twisting
ends of old plots
night of shredded clouds
in flying wrack
moon peeking -- glinting
through them
all things grow weary
night offers respite -- and sleep
~a release to forget but briefly
swift passing -- days of sunlight
and night says, "you really must
wait 'til morning for darkness
to
pass
no matter if lore be wise
or -- unwise
night turns to day ~ to night
~ to day once again
serpent eats its tail
as an endless wheel
we -- and all life
ride it to an end
yet to be recorded
yet to be seen
footfalls from distance
heard -- an echo of present
in future.
vcp
16 October 2014
Poetry by Victor
Read 641 times
Written on 2014-10-16 at 19:27
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