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Never Alone at Night (Free verse) by Limness You don't want me
to say these things aloud
nor think nor feel them
But here is all this time gone between us,
none of it wasted, all of it lived
And in my questionings
when the night quiets
and the darkness is home
There is only one name
I hear
I would ask you,
as she lays dormant beside you,
closed to all sense of you,
more open at rest than when she's awake,
Where are your dreams?
Mine find me
on that sunlit shore in early May
When I felt you from afar,
before you came to your senses,
before you turned me away,
before the quietus of us
In my nightly visions,
visceral and full,
in caress after caress
I selfishly destroy
all that you have built
What gifts has sleep for you?
Blessed emptiness?
Troubled longings?
Innocence again?
Night is my home
You are always here,
heavy inside where my pulse is strongest
and there is nothing
I would not give
to be in your arms tonight
Go on, smile at my foolishness
Up the ladder:
Valantine
Down the ladder:
The Order Of Things
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 6.111111
Posted: November 1, 2002 8:01 AM PST; Last modified: November 1, 2002 8:24 AM PSTWeighted score: 6.1111045 Overall Rank: 1121 Comments:
[10]
Christof @ 195.172.133.226
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1-Nov-02/8:05 AM
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Reply
This really is a poem of the night, all the dark longings and questionings that we don't want to face in the daylight. The last stanza and the final line are very moving indeed. I love this.
I really enjoyed this poem.
this longing throbs. the end line twirks a bit off line, but i can hear a heartbeat here.
you know who you are...
This poem transmits a powerful sense of heartache. but in one or two places I was thrown. What do you mean by "before the quietus of us"? Also it is not altogether clear whom you are addressing always. In the second verse I thought it was me, the reader, then later it is plain you address your loved one. But I found myself very moved. Well done.
thank you for your comments. in the line about quietus, my meaning is, before what was between us died, before he withdrew from me. i am not sure how to resolve the problem of who is being addressed; many of the pieces i write are written to him, for him. they are more intimate that way. i make the reader assume the role of voyeur. i hope it works.
Dear Limness,
Thank you for your reply to my comments. Thank you also for introducing "quietus" to me. I would still contend it is the wrong choice of word because while the end of relationship was a quietus for him, it was not for you in any sense of the word (there appear to be two). Hell, you are in agony for the love of him. Quietus is what you need, not what you have. Secondly my other difficulty is that the word is too obscure, save for the most erudite of readers. In a poem which is so touching and well written do you really want your readers to be scrambling for the dictionary? It breaks the spell. As to the audience you address, I find it is better to stick to one audience at a time, though having said that I am guilty myself (quite unnecessarily) in my submission Tribute to A Friend, which is written in the manner of Hilaire belloc. I am a new member of this poet's circle and I have only just submitted three poems yesterday. My others are Hattie and Party Mugging (AAgain). Please be so kind as to have a peek. Best wishes. NB You are very good.
i think that 'quietus' has context clues enough to justify its use, and the assonance is the reason i chose it. it's a whispery word, which is where my grief walks now. and, it was an ending, a passing, because although he is still very alive for me, there is no 'us'; that entity is a dead hope.
i will have a look at yours. thanks.
This poem was only a 7 or 8 for me until that last night. You really changed the tone with that line. You see your own indulgent angst, and you connect with the reader on that note. I agree, you know exactly wo you are.
oops ... I meant to say "that last 'line'", not "night" ... you get my drift
I really enjoy ur poem!
I smile at your foolishness, and comfort you, dear. Move on, now. you must, or you shall waste.
amazing poem
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