At Night if I Allow – New Poetry

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(Edited)

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At night
if I allow the swirls of thought
to spin

the demons come.
They are not real
but they have claws

They are not real.
They are echoes in the tin can
that holds my brain

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The good is
as plentiful as the bad.
Perhaps both are fictional

but, on some days
the clouds wisp
like smoke in the river

and the light strikes gold
on the leading edges
and I can see it

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When the sun rises
does it push out the dark?
Or does the dark merely exit

allowing
presence to fill
absence

On the river after the dark
has gone, for awhile,
the grebe plumbs the depths

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I want to choose
the light and let it grow
but, but, but

all these spun demons
have my attention
like a cat by the balls

I scream and turn
to rend throats
It hurts to be held by demons

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Do you think I will
conclude drawing for you
some colorful truth?

I have nothing
and nothing has
my tin can in its claw


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Title banner designed in CanvaPro, using my own photo.



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23 comments
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This is quite deep. The mind can certainly go wild when we let it wander freely. Makes me wanna guard my thoughts tightly tonight :)

Nice one!

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Thanks for reading. ... I work the night shift, so on my nights off, I have many hours in the depths of night to think. At least I got a poem out of it this week. :)

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Aah, that explains why :) Thought you might be having the thoughts while trying to sleep hehe.

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Beautifully written! You capture the way our minds struggle at night, bringing our thoughts to life and sometimes weighing the good against the bad. This is deep. Well done. 🙂 !PIZZA

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I love some of the lines! The imagery is very vivid. I appreciate the poetry!

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Yummy poem! Lots to cogitate!

I see an unnerved person, someone in a sudden rough patch, not quite in crisis. Existential at the end there, but until then, I did expect some truth to tie all the little truths together. So that ending was a delicious surprise.

Think for yourself, don't look at me, I have my own imagined demons, they are not yours.


I find this bit especially intriguing. It starts off kind of zennie, then hits me with mundane:

When the sun rises
does it push out the dark?
Or does the dark merely exit

allowing
presence to fill
absence

On the river after the dark
has gone, for awhile,
the grebe plumbs the depths

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Hi, thank you for the read and great comment. You managed to highlight my favorite stanza (with the grebe), and I'm glad you liked the ending; I really wasn't sure about that.

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The ending was like candy to me: witty and wise.

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Excellent imagery on this poem. The three line stanzas give it a great rhythm.

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Thank you. I've written a few haiku for Threads lately, so even though these aren't 5-7-5, three lines just felt right.

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I really like the imagery that you have in this section and the question you pose.

When the sun rises
does it push out the dark?
Or does the dark merely exit

allowing
presence to fill
absence

On the river after the dark
has gone, for awhile,
the grebe plumbs the depths

It interacts very nicely with the way you finish the poem and sort of play with the reader.

Do you think I will
conclude drawing for you
some colorful truth?

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Very good poem about the night and its beings, provoked by our mind; much of that is what literature is made of. Very eloquent images and a well achieved structuring in fragments. The #BlockchainPoets community congratulates your poetic work. Greetings.

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If I'm not mistaken, the poem describes the inner turmoil of the poet, who struggles with negative thoughts and emotions that threaten to overwhelm them. Despite this struggle, there are glimpses of hope and beauty in the world around them, such as the light striking gold on the river. The poem ends on a somewhat ambiguous note, wondering if they will be able to find some sort of truth or meaning in their struggles. If that's the case, I can say that this is something I can relate

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I tell you what, threads is getting poems back on the map.

Love this and came in from dreemport

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