The Tick

Mantle Clock

image by J. Lyman, messed with by Charley

And does the mantle
clock truly strike
the hours and count
the minutes of my dreams?

Or does it only while I lie
restless in insomniac torture
keep
faith, extending
the night indefinitely?

What more?

What more to purpose
than to keep
me sleepless, sweating
as the chimes slowly howl
in my ears?

And when the jazz comes
alive in my ears
at ten past five,
should I curse
the clock for making
noise?

Or praise
it for keeping
time and tempo
to the nightmare
of my unrelenting
sleepless nights?

It’s open link night at dVerse Poets Pub, which is to say, “Anything goes!”  It can be a wild ride into poetic darkness and at the same time into the brightest of sunrises, supernovas, or simple flash photography (retro style with a Kodak Instamatic and those awesome flash cubes of yore!).  https://dversepoets.com/2017/05/04/openlinknight-195/

Western Aire

wolf moon

image lifted from goddessrising.org

Forty-seven degrees on a rare windless night in Wyoming.  I’m pulled over off the road, car running, got the windows rolled down, airing out the sleepiness that has dogged me for the past seventy miles or so.  Who can tell; I may have been nodding through several of those landmark-free miles.  I’m leaning against my Volkswagen, listening to the music I’ve got to kill time and kill the melancholy of traveling alone.  Singing through a night that’s nearly day with the Cold Full Moon.

The land about me is limned in bluish neon.

Then it happens.  THE song comes on.  I’m singing because, you know, you can’t not sing to it.  It’s one of those that either draws you along, or you end up saying, “I don’t know it.”  Saying that always elicits deepest sympathy from me.  I’m biased.  To me it’s one of the one hundred perfect songs.  It’s timeless, yet locked in time like time is amber or something intensely philosophical like that.

Anyway, I’m singing along.  After a few bars another song slips in.  And it’s the song, my song, and their song… under a big, blue moon.

The moon inspires song
Cool jazz – cold night – singing pack
Wolves howl a Moon dance

 

It’s Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets Pub.  https://dversepoets.com/2017/05/01/haibun-monday-tramps-like-us-were-born-to-survive/#comment-122749