midnight
near
biting at
my shoulder
a whisper an
angle a flutter
I could see
that it might work, but
shouting
shouting fists at my window
heart hot
heart writhes the whisper stopped
a poem scared away a song swallowed in fear
a poem scared away a song swallowed in fear
Oh Sarah, that's a song. Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteBiting at my shoulder... I feel the bite some nights too when I'm trying to force the poetry to not take time away from my children.
ReplyDeleteWhat an extraordinary piece of writing.
ReplyDeleteGood shape and sad phrases.
ReplyDeletea poem about being unable to write a poem due to terror — a triumph
ReplyDeleteReminds me of Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights
ReplyDeletemm... Cathy's wrist on the window pane
ReplyDeleteyes, getting cut on the glass
ReplyDeleteWow! Thanks everyone. A poem written in absolute desperation. Wuthering Heights and that scene at the beginning is one of the great passages in literature for me, I feel it part of me, but I didn't have it in mind when this emerged, so that is interesting. I had the feeling of a poem emerging the threads the wanderings the voice emerging in my mind and then I had some very bad energy from the outside world come to me at about 11pm, (email communication) which is really becoming deadline time for this project, and it killed what was happening in my mind, my heart was racing I was scared about what was communicated, that it would also rob me of the post a day which I have so far achieved, and I just resorted to writing about that experience. Thanks! I am so glad you felt it worked. And I had taken that quirky picture in the Blue Mountains very recently on a walk with Jane Skelton and I was wondering if I could use it for anything.
ReplyDeleteyes the photo is very fitting too. I like getting into the Gothic connecting to your work, with Morpheus and now this ghost thing! Makes it easier than going there yourself, worrying that it might materialise.
ReplyDelete