I posted this once before, and since I have nothing new, I post it again.
Poem of the Night
The streets are gleaming tonight
as if a million stars were brought to earth,
flattened into urban mirrors
under lamp posts reflecting
an empty nothingness.
It is a dull mid-winter night,
straining towards spring
with all intention of leaching
the dying season’s
last insult, unleashing it
upon mankind’s discomfort
one more time.
“A foggy day in London town”
Is what I think when I look down
This cotton-wool streetscape,
But that has tune and purpose,
And this muted stillness has none.
The rain left a muffling fog,
Mercifully erasing stark bones
of tree limbs reaching to the sky
Black beggars on seasonal parade.
Yet,
there is a strange beauty to the night,
Transforming what was common,
Dissolving borders, barriers, dimensions,
Making a mirage, an alien oasis.
Heavy mists swirl around the ground,
Lift past the unfocused light
combine with the creeping gloom
And turn a hand to pale mystery.
Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted, 2011, 2012
Tags: "Poem of the Night", atmosphere, dversepoets.com, muffling fog, poetry, straining towards spring
June 11, 2012 at 10:18 am
Jane, this poem is worthy of re-posting…and more. Such perfectly described winter scene, as experienced by one. That one is who is fortunate to have read it. (“Extra, extra! Read all about it!”).
I devoured each ‘quotable’ stanza with heartfelt peace–Spring IS around the corner, right?
OH! Did I comment? That I am in love with the opening lines? I’ll probably sing them, riding out in the air post-first-light in a few minutes. Thank you.
PEACE!
Steve
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June 11, 2012 at 12:26 pm
Hi Steve!
Thank you so much for the comment…for reading this poem, and in general….for your heart felt enthusiasm for poetry…and LIFE!
Sing on, dear musician, I would love to hear them played…
Peace!
Jane
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June 12, 2012 at 10:19 pm
Lovely winter scene – enjoyed the different ways of looking 🙂
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June 12, 2012 at 10:50 pm
you do give the gloom a bit of beauty…a cotton wool night, you set the scene very well and give it depth and texture…there is a certain magic that happens once the sun goes down…smiles.
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June 13, 2012 at 12:00 am
Hello, I have never seen this before so I thank you for sharing as I enjoyed the flow of your words. Nice job!
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June 13, 2012 at 12:09 am
This has that eery fog-laden mood of a gothic impression, but its sense of emptiness and final realization of nothingness make it distinctly modern. I liked the fact that it turns from a potential cynical awareness to something larger, more optimistic perhaps.
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June 13, 2012 at 1:26 am
Very much like the ending, Jane, but also the delicate descriptions and the slow and deliberate pace, very in tune with a fog shrouded night scene, muffled feeling and mysterious. Lovely stuff.
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June 13, 2012 at 1:40 am
You capture mood as well as images here Jane. I’ve missed you lately. Keep meaning to drop you a line. I loved this, so natural yet somewhat surreal. Again your simplicity leads into scenes evoking seasons and mysteries. Very effective. I’ll talk to you soon!
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June 13, 2012 at 1:41 am
Thank you, Hedgewitch…I was sitting at a long window, looking down the rain sodden street, where the huge pecans and oaks were muffled in the fog. I’ve since moved my desk, and I think I need to move it back. There was a lovely inspiration being up that high, being able to look out the window at the long street and the trees.
Thank you for reading and your comment, Joy. You are always so encouraging.
Jane
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June 13, 2012 at 1:44 am
Impressive scene rendered magical by the hand of fog and the artful poet. Lovely piece, Jane. I’ve written a few like it (though nowhere near as brilliantly Nyo-ish) in which snow “smooths out the uglies” of my old, broken neighborhood.
Lovely piece!! 🙂 xo
~ j
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June 13, 2012 at 3:16 am
Very lovely; the yellow fog that lingers in the street and licks in the window panes! k.
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June 13, 2012 at 11:34 am
Hey K!
Your own words in comment are as poetic as any in my poem. Thank you for reading and for your inspiring comment!
Jane
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June 13, 2012 at 11:37 am
Hi Joe!
We share something in common….old, broken neighborhoods. Sometimes it takes a squint or a particular time of the day/night to see the beauty, but it is there,…it is.
Snow is rare in Atlanta, none this year….but last year we had 6 inches in January…on my birthday, and it turned the street into a Japanese village. It was memorable and lovely, so I understand what you write about the snow smooths out the uglies….LOL~
Thank you so much for reading and your lovely comment.
Jane
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June 13, 2012 at 11:41 am
Hi Gay~~~~
I’ve been mulling around and have been meaning to write to you, too….This vertigo has ended, but it was a long and tenuous time and it left me startled with life. And very unsure about navigating life in heels. LOL! Just started wearing a pair again.
I am trying to go more to the simplification of verse, but it’s a struggle to get to the heart of the matter as you know.
Thank you so much, Gay, for reading and your lovely comment. I’ll make the rounds today.
Jane
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June 13, 2012 at 11:44 am
Hi Charles…..I learn so much more from readers of my poetry, other poets…than I ever know in formatting my own poetry. LOL! I guess that is the way of things.
Yes, there is optimism in the ending…..as hope is sometimes the only thing to hang on to.
Thanks so much for reading and for your insightful comment. Again, I learn so much about poetry from other poets.
Jane
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June 13, 2012 at 11:44 am
Thank you, Truedessa…for reading and your lovely comment.
Lady Nyo
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June 13, 2012 at 11:46 am
Hi Brian….what’s outside is so inspiring….morning and night. I can’t get my head around the internals of human behavior much, but nature and the outside certainly calls loudly.
You are so much more the poet when it comes to the human condition.
Thanks so much for reading and your comment.
Jane
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June 13, 2012 at 11:47 am
Hi Marousia!
Thank you so much for reading and your lovely comment.
Jane
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June 13, 2012 at 4:36 pm
Enjoyed reading that!
Actually, I always enjoy rifling about your blog – never know what I’ll find!
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June 13, 2012 at 6:21 pm
LOL! Kolembo. It is a mismash of writings and ponderings….mostly without a purpose.
Thank you very much for reading and leaving a comment.
Lady Nyo
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