Late Night Stormy Paranoia

A poet searches and searches for words.

        Late Night Stormy Paranoia
 
                          He sat by candle light, shadow flames against a wall.
                          Pen in hand and pad of paper, insane voices down the hall.

                          Calling, Calling, Taunting, Taunting , itchy rafters under roof.
                          Madly writing, sweaty brow, shaggy beard, and single tooth.

                          Insane voices, creaky floors, cob web dances in a draft.
                          Late night stormy paranoia, writing spirals down a shaft.

                          Eerie laughter that he mutters, ice cold veins that beat with in.
                          Smiling plants, and singing rodents, last nights supper on his chin. 
                   
                          Voices calling, calling, thoughts are fast, like bat wings beat.
                          running around laughing wildly, setting down, then changing seats.

                          Writing fast, talking loudly, word induced insanity.
                          Late night stormy paranoia, soul consumed with calamity.

                          Viewer peers through dirty window, feelings which were very sad.
                          insidious acts of one old man, a desperate poet completely mad  

                          Pen is tapping against his forehead, gleaming look in his eyes.
                          Swarms of moths in his mind, continuous sounds of eager sighs.

                          Frantic pacing wall to wall, front door smashes  unto steps.
                          Lighting bolts and thunder crashes, head cocked back howling, MORE!

                          Late night stormy paranoia, jumbled words are his demise.
                          Late night stormy paranoia, haunt this poet as he cries.

Reviews

[Ees]

In the second to last stanza you use crashes twice which sounds too hard when reading the poem and the second crashes almost screams to be called "clapped" or claps.

This was an interesting poem with a hint of a story contained within. The image of this poet was very vivid. That is partially due to a romantic view I think most of us do have of these crazy writer types that we claim to be. Of course there is a reason for such a view.

This was fun to read and a little bit startling.
Great job!

[Jennie Baron]

I love the rhythm of this poem with the repetition and the rhymed couplets; I don't rhyme much so that's a skill I admire. You have captured so well the "insanity" that often drives writing, and you've skillfully chosen such apt words.

[Don Shaw]

Thank you for the review.

[catofjade]

Strong echoes of Poe, but completely your own, with a powerfully confident voice in describing the coming apart of a man with a poet's soul, an artist's psyche, and a hermit's potential madness all meeting at a nexus of midnight black. Extremely well done. You definitely put us there, right on the creaky floorboards next to him, and we are held fast in that mode whereby one wants to run quickly away, yet is glued to the spot by the sheer entertainment value of the dread that witnessing insanity produces. Bravo!~ and well done!

[realmwriter]

Very creative and very original. The pacing seems to skip a bit just a bit in the eight stanza first line after the comma. Not enough sylables there. None the less I lie this piece very much.

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

Brillant creativity and flow!

[Robbie~xoxo~]

....And you have writer's block?.... Even if that, you are a madness of creativity. I am at awe!

[Chris]

That was fun - for you to write... I can - CAN, feel the smile behind your eyes as you ended this one.

[.]

ha..brilliant..what a joy to read the ramblings of a mad poet put so brilliantly togethter ...each stanza breathes the emotion of the piece..great work

[Chris Taylor]

Boy, do I like this poem. A truly fitting expression of what it is like to lament and lament over the choosing and the choosing of the most perfect words. A total joy to read. I rated this very high.