Tag Archive | night

4/26/2015 – Patricia A. Hawkenson’s Reflections – Compromise

Compromise

In the twinkling
of an eye
it must follow
as the night
the day
where the barefaced moon
and the myriad of stars
politely fade
as they undress today
with a hint
of blushing dawn
baring the indiscretions
of day’s rattling skeleton
that must be covered
and hung upon
the cheek of night
and cursed be he
that moves the bones
a true beginning
of the end

4/3/2014 – Patricia A. Hawkenson’s Reflections – Kindred Spirits

PAD Day 3 Message Poem

Kindred Spirits

Collected pain drips
from an assortment
of wobbly elbows
until this night’s convergence
of long island tea
and bloody marys
leaves their imprints
far too messed up
for any psychic to read
before the barkeep
wipes the stench away
gathering bits of their souls
into a yellowed sheet
now filled with their piss
and vinegar.

6/03/2012 – Patricia A. Hawkenson’s Reflections – Only a Sigh

Only a Sigh

The dark summer night
hid their desire
till the stars came out
and kissed their skin.

Her breath came slowly
only a sigh
but he inhaled it
till it filled his soul.

The rhythm of the night
lulled her to sleep
and he blew out the stars
with only a sigh.

4/30/2012 Patricia A. Hawkenson’s Reflections – The Day Ends

The Day Ends

Shadows greyed
the peonies
as they hung their
heavy heads
after a day
of showing off
their crimson petticoats
with the passerby’s glances
forgetting to inhale
their shot of intoxication
that was free for the picking.

Now night must do her magic
giving them renewed courage
to raise their heads
in dignity
tomorrow
and tomorrow
before the summer ends
with chastising heat
and dries them all
to seed.

11/13/2010 Patricia A. Hawkenson’s Reflections – Camping Out

Soot 002

Camping Out

Only if you

have pulled your hood
closer to warm
your cheeks,

have seen the sparks
lifting crackly red
against the sooty sky,

could you know
the brightness
of this tender moment,

rising hope for the possibility
of our tomorrow
deep within the shadows

of this chilling night.

4/05/10 Patricia A. Hawkenson’s Reflections – My Glass Was Filled Again

My Forgetfullness

PROMPT 5: Write a poem about too much information.

My Glass Was Filled Again

Covers rolled over me
clouds billowed past
my distortion of day,
my mixing of night.

Dreams dropped the words
that slumber used to describe
my mixing of people,
my confusion of time.

Somewhere in the pillow
that holds my jumbled words
my poem was left in pieces,
my frustration wakes again.

I thought I would remember
all the feelings of the dream
my clarity of morning,
my forgetfulness of you.

1/30/10 Patricia A. Hawkenson’s Reflections – When Shadows Don’t Match

Shadows

When Shadows Don’t Match

My shadows
are supposed to stay
where they are put.

That is the law
of windows at night
and lawns when the sun
is tired.

Reflecting,
I must leave the darkness.

I will rip my feet
from the black socks
that connect me
to that distorted lie
in the carnival mirror.

I am not that girl.

I will put my socks in the washer
tumbling until
one is lost forever
and I emerge
clean.

1/23/10 Guest Poet: Melanie Bishop

blueskies

Guest Poet: Melanie Bishop

Poet, living and writing in NYC, sharing her work on her blog: Cassiopeia Rises

Behind Your Eyes

look, look deep into your eyes
behind the color blue
______rimed with darkness
a nebula world, one few know
few care, few will ever see

in twilight, your eyes open
letting in the nights shadows
_______shadows that fill you
shadows that complete you
weaving webs of deceit and fear

beware the dimly lit paths
aglow around you, drawing, pulling
_______like spirit lights on the moors
we will suck you dry and snatch your soul
no second chance, no escape

Extreme

extreme sadness
____heart empties
into river of tears
hardens
as your face fades
nothing, nothing left,nothing
no you ,no us
_____alone with
just shadows of where you once were

Deja Vu…..

old creaking joints
skin drawn tight
across skinny bones

lips once soft, smooth
pulled slightly apart
reveal yellowed teeth

hideous form caught in time
indurated, it blinks while dreaming
of tea party’s and lacy pink dresses

feeble, mind dull, it stops and grins again
my face, it’s face slid from it’s once firm place
a face that shadows me

useless, feeble, slow when once I know
yes, once I know I ran deer footed
and laughed, laughed out loud

when once I wore those lacy pink dresses
and danced the night away
trailing soft summer flowers

Fleeting

fleeting are our days
count count the hours as they pass
petals drop fore lorn

Bag Lady

Bags tied to an old cart
Again and again she stops
Garbage her only friend
Lonely and homeless
Agatha walks on unknown
Day after day seeking cover from the cold
Yielding in the end to the ice and snow

Did I Forget

did I remember to forget your kiss
drinking while softly singing your song
did I run out in the rain, too late
where now nothing but silent shadows remain
will you fade from my heart full of pain

Contact Melanie at:

http://cassiopeiarises,blogspot.com
beloved49@gmail.com

12/26/09 Patricia A. Hawkenson’s Reflections – Sleeping With the Enemy

Bed

Sleeping With the Enemy

Night has its routine,
comforting in its
sameness,
the way my hand
must find its place
next to my chin,
my knees tucked up,
toes seeking
a night breeze.

Then my eyes close
searching
for swirling sparkles
that morph
with blotching
nothingness
pulling me in
to the same old,
same old
fears.

I am loosing
this pillow fight,
too old
for a lullaby,
too old to scream.

All the same,
I wish I didn’t
dream.

11/10/09 Patricia A. Hawkenson’s Reflections

The Man in the Moon Has No Hands

I walk in socks
unwilling to wake
the sleeping
as I pass the window
showing multiple images
of myself,
distorted and untouchable,
in the blackened night.

It is easy
to slide quietly
between the pains
of glass
and into that darkness
where my regrets
leave an untouchable
mark.

I can stay in the shadows
as long as the moon
is on my side
and keeps
his hands
to himself.