"God Bless the Night"
God bless the night
when even our own bodies fail ourselves
And we sleep sick lovers
And dead dreamers
Ended in our fancies
And when each heart is mocked
By its warmth.
Blood may be ruddy and florid
But to see it is to die a little.
--Cheniece S. S.
OH MY GOODNESS. You freaking posted! And to think, I was about to lose hope!
ReplyDeleteAlso, I really enjoyed your poem. Do you ever do readings?
Oh, my Dear Liz! This is your Cherry here talking to you, so you know better than to give up hope! I never will! Yes, I am on a hiatus. And I am just so tickled pink and and pleased that you remain in love with me and a friend of mine enough to comment--even to this extended date since my last real post! It gives me shivers from memories and good feelings!
ReplyDeleteThis little, morbid poem of mine is quite old. I might have written it when I was 19 (I'm dating myself here, I'm aware--but you already know that I'm a bit older than you are). It's sad, and it's not coming from a place where I'm currently at, thank God. BUT, I was recently inspired and encouraged to sift through my private archive and portfolio of poems and short fiction to share a small portion...
Truth be told, one of the better friends that I've made on the online dating service that I'm currently active on suggested we "trade" works. This English guy loves literature as much as I do, and his own poems are astounding! We're even Facebook friends now ;-) I love smart men!
I miss and love you Spazz! I'm not in that morbid state-of-mind that spawned this poem. And as for readings, I haven't become brave enough. I see that changing soon, though, for some reason now!
Ciao and Love, My Girl!