Quiet...

 

I am stoned, alone, in Mountain Time again,

Memories of the faded glories of rust belt hometowns

Ghosts of hardship and tears weigh heavily upon me

Saturday night sadness sears me soulfully

Half messages I receive on cell phones

The madness of meaningless muteness

In mass medium of maniacs

I stumble upon words in marijuana haze

Typing them quickly before I lose them

Like dust, like stars in the morning

They blink out, one by one

Like lights in windows of houses

As the moon grows bright and round and icy

Silver shadows play beyond the windows

Where the winter resides beyond my walls

My sanctuary of gentle purring tigers

Silently stalking in the jungles of my cloister

Eyelids grow heavy with sleep and doubt

And thoughts and dreams weigh heavy there

And heart resides deep in this fortress

In the maze that is the streets

Cold, the streetlamps shine down

Safely they bring the silence into my room

In smoke, like spirits, they crawl to me

Across the thin beams of light that spray

And veil my space with softness and smell

My phone does not ring

My clock grows angrily red the time that passes

No messages sent nor received

No connection, only solitude

I find the warmth in the isolation

I find the brightness inside me

I find the quiet therein

I find the quietness

I find quiet

Quiet….

Reviews

[Writer CW Kirkland]

This is a well-written poem. You did a great job expressing your feelings and writing a piece that will evoke emotions in readers. You have demonstrated intelligence with the words you use and the story you told. I think readers will find the flow of this poem easy to read. I really enjoyed the way you ended the poem by fading into quiet. Nice job! Thank you for sharing your work on the Cafe, and I look forward to reading more of your writing in the future.