another round

Night is a dark canyon
full of sweet sunshine swallows
the dry gushing of its hot feathers
dusting my face in sleep

this grit I cough on was once my spite
now its an anthem flashing short light

and the bottle speaks of confessions
written on the table of winter
settle back down the hairs that
raise
cause its just voices crying out the blues
they've read schematics
of failed truce

Down down by the deep and burdened
river where the sweet mares
drink their take
follow through the mystery
corners
dreams will take you by the lake

this wretched hearts my wandering
prose whispered psalms
wind blade grass throes
these ragged boots
my stories leaving
and heavy rains
will wash the ending clean

Night is wanting her requime
shes thirsty for a dream
and I'll drift away
as wishs burn the darkness
bright
falling fast
spells of light

— Esker, Jun 25, 2010

About This Poem

About the Author

Region, Country: north ontario, CAN

Favorite Poets: Klo , .., Ida, .., Rhiannon1010, .., Pleiades, .., Valryianne, .., Ester, .., Stephanie, .., Emina Smajevic, ..., Elefentee, ..., Sommer Lyn, ..., Jasmine, ..., Rula, ...

Critiques

pleiades

15 years 11 months ago

do you know, as i was was

do you know, as i was was resading this, i imagined tom waites rasping it out in song...it seems like the kind of tale he tells so well with his hobo voice i like the sometimes rhyme in this... just the odd few words here and there great opening line, 'night is a dark canyon...' and i like how you begin your last stanza with the reference again to night sp requime~ requiem p

Esker

15 years 11 months ago

give me a gallon of regret

paint red hearts black and bet them spades you know the cunning cat of dread that wanders like a whisper when the fallen stars are dead How I own to feel the rooms you sleep your ghost sodden with the tears you weep the rusted diary of Lost you steep while steam whistles crie in valleys full of mist and worry the moon is swimming look at her jury the speckled stars that flame like torchs while deaf dogs sleep on broken porchs

Seren

15 years 11 months ago

Sitting at Regret’s

Sitting at Regret's table drowning the sorrows of a world finding at end of the bottle that it holds no message, but that the emptiness of tomorrows and yesterdays flow in the drinking of pure pain sigh dont know where that came from brilliant poem steven bravo love and big hugs JayCee x x (Quote~~"It is by universal misunderstanding that all agree. For if, by ill luck, people understood each other, they would never agree. "--Charles Baudelaire)