A thousand eyes
Did not weep
As in sadness
I fell to sleep
No ideal dreams
No happy face
Merely strangers words
Dark clouds to lace.
Each wanton step
In solitude
Weary eyes
Observing moon
Strange places
That in memory fade
The bare lightbulb
No dimming shade.
Shadows dance
I know not where
The scurrying rat
The cats menacing stare
From gutter to
Highest Heaven bowed
A sliding vision
Without sound.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: August 29th, 2025 01:20
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
Offline)
Comments2
Dreams a strange land full of shadows and lost memories. Nicely worded this poem cast some of those shadows
thanking you
Most welcome
This one drapes its imagery in loneliness and unease, moving through a dreamless night where comfort is absent and only the cold presence of “strangers’ words” and “dark clouds” remain. The bare lightbulb becomes a stark emblem (unsoftened, unshaded) casting a harsh clarity over fading memories and solitary wanderings. In the final stanza, shadow and movement blur into a surreal, almost cinematic sequence: rats, a cat’s predatory gaze, and a silent, sliding vision that stretches from gutter to heaven. It’s a portrait of isolation tinged with menace, where light illuminates but offers no warmth.
spot on, appreciated and thanks
Most welcome, Norman🕊️🙏🏻
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