Archive for night poems

Sing To Me Midnight

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on January 22, 2013 by dc

Sing to me midnight
Spit out your stars and glide by
The wonder is wild

Night Sky

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on May 30, 2009 by dc

The wet sounds of stars
Gently sobbing ensembles
All needy and lost

Diamond Scattered Skies

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 29, 2009 by dc

These winter nights with diamond scattered skies
Taste of grape juice and isolation,

Bones that itch and gently lie on the mist,
A sad child’s painting of churchyards and misery.

Irony sweeps in the changes
And all that I wanted is not what it seems,

Dreams become gloom and my breath rises high,
Why can’t I share this night sky with someone?

The streets lie empty and filled with suspense,
Why are you blackness when jewels sit abundant?

Wherever you are
Sweet storm in a teacup,

This tear is for you,
Reflecting one chosen star

As it rolls all pathetic
Under something so grand,

We were never the night sky,
But I’m here as you yawn,

We were never forever,
Like the mist before dawn.

Appreciating Light

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on January 1, 2009 by dc

Is this art
Or just revenge?
An illusion of feeling
Or another half chance
To dance at the bottom
Of a wishing well,
Light once more
In solitude.

Are we shaping the sky
Or just under the clouds
As they cry?
How is it all our
Conversations end in why?
And that stuck on sigh
That used to loosen tongues
Is now a question mark
Hung dry.

Is this
A statement of intent
Or just a bench
Where lovers sit
And bite their lips?
This feeling is hardly a yard-stick
To measure the pleasure
That reigned here
Not so long ago.

We are lost
As rivers swell,
As the night
Swims unwell
On the waves
We’ve been making,
Contemplating our failures
We’ve been aching for solace,
A fresh palace dreamt
In the darkness of light.

A Black Night Collapse

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 4, 2008 by dc

Up a tree as the storm hit,
Floods of people scuttled home,
Worried looks were everywhere,
A hundred gods groaned,

Rain dropped down in sheets,
Buildings creaked and sighed,
Litter grappled the evening
In miniature whirlwinds,

There were widows screaming questions,
Dogs howling like coyotes
And children wailing
Like banshees confused,

Siege mentalities gripped
And the streets become rivers
As I saw from up high
A black night collapse,

Dreams visiting in waves,
Beauty snatched away in moments,
Regret a moving force,
Dark clouds tarring the sky,

A way to worry forever.

Licks of Black

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 22, 2008 by dc

A nearby quarry holds landslides,
My stomach flames dance,
I change my mind like wet socks
And then smell all my worries.

My muscles tense up like wood-beams,
Gloom kisses my ears,
I walk miles through a storm
And whip dread into fear.

I keep dreaming for something,
A clue to these worry clouds,
Through the licks of black grazing
And the dusk as it drains,

There are outlandish horrors
In this countryside night,
Forces that banish all positive thought
And cave into terror with ease.

I need someone to tell the strange, withered hag
In the distant moonlit field,
Who trains crows as I rest,
That I shall never return to witness her filth,

Some sign to warn the devils in the barn
That I shall never slip back
To the bent nails from long gone
And catch all my thoughts on their desperate rust.

Through the trails of my sleep
Landscapes snap like crooked jigsaws,
Bad decisions wake children
And twist up into jungles of skin,

There are things in my head now
That could almost be love,
Chaos tastes like fresh dew
And mistakes are a walk in the park.

In the middle of sweating
I stir and smell tar,
Someone is calling,
The quarry is silent.

And the Vampires Pretend

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 16, 2008 by dc

The cancerous night skies cooked deep in winter
As the animals in the zoo jettisoned dins,
Beggars locked horns,
There were too many faces in the clouds
And there were charred photos everywhere,
Self pity had painted its frames.


It’s easy to fall into recollections of pain,
Like an old woman’s memoirs about a life of ‘not quite’,
Dead angels in a quarry,
Or ghosts floating slowly across rivers of tar,
When we all need love most
It’s often dead in a jar,


A gallery, a well thumbed book,
A photo frame, a yellowed note.


When we all need love most it stays quiet just like dusk
And the dust slowly settles
As the vampires pretend they are more than mere myths
And the cysts of world troubles pop like blisters in space,
It’s all races and graces if we all face the facts,
We’re just random truths lost
Amongst the scurry of rats.