Solstice

[rowens]

Solstice


Now angel.
This is the vacant hour,
the darkness after the party,
nothing jingles, not even any horses neigh;
only a car goes by, speeding and loud;
it's funny, you usually don't notice them in bed,
usually dark is good, sleep falls easy, and dreams are healing.
Tonight it is as if you were born a grown man.

The snowy snakes, our friends, were laughing
last time we saw them, two or three hours ago.
No, a day, this a new night,
choking on all the things you've done;
a new dream every split second
makes the mind confused.

No, not vacant, ordeals rich
in uncommon sense and twisting.
Riled up everythings.
My knee is that I have a new name,
or someone is missing from my life.
The roofs are wrong colors though I'm not there
to see.

Always hard, though with no anticipation;
bending in uneasier shapes to escape
all sense of being or becoming anything.
We are no longer us, but brainless afterglows,
till finally I find myself on the winged arms
of a story, a compacted plot fading
seamlessly into the morning light.

[billy]

it's hard to find fault with it rowens. i found the first two stanzas exceptional. for me this worth more than a few reads.

[busker]

It has shades of The Hollow Men, but some of the lines do very well:

My knee means I have a new name,

is nice, and

We are no longer us, but brainless afterglows,
till finally I find myself on the winged arms
of a story, a compacted plot fading
seamlessly into the morning light.

is very well done
thanks for the read

[rowens]

It could as well say my knee is that I have a new name...sometimes.