Up all night, again.
I'm on a deadly schedule where night and day have no structure or meaning.
It's not insomnia.
I'm a member of the Midnight Gang in a world of Tequila Sunrises. ;}
The cycle must be broken but the carousel refuses to slow down.
I am spinning
and not a golden ring in sight.
I am out of control in all that I am.
Maniacal laughter across the way
I know that sound
The Haunted House is open
and waiting
but I'm on that ride already.
This poem does not need music. The words and rhythm are music. But what a song it would make.
ACQUAINTED WITH THE NIGHT by Robert Frost
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain --and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
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By: Pamela Ross,
on 8/6/2008
Blog: Born to Write (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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By: Pamela Ross,
on 8/6/2008
Blog: Born to Write (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: robert frost, music, poetry, poets, paul muldoon, warren zeon, Add a tag