Posts Tagged ‘“Poem of the Night”’

Poem of the Night

June 3, 2020

Kohut-Bartels-LS-17

(an oil painting after Constable….JKB)

 

 

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 fine hand to pale mystery.

 

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrghted, 2020

“Poem of the Night”

April 25, 2017

    Night Fog 2 

For the Earth Day Event at Sevandanda I have to pick a number of poems to read.  I have found that the problem for me is not writing the poems, but in reading them aloud. I stink at this.  There is a line in this particular poem I sing, and it means breath control and pacing.  I still stink at this. LOL!  But IF I relax and enjoy the poems I will do better.  Still scaring the cats and dogs with my attempts to get a handle on public reading.  Wish me luck.

 

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

February 1st, 2011

 

‘Poem of the Night’, from “Pitcher of Moon”

January 17, 2014

 

Full Moon, March 2011

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, 2014

from “Pitcher of Moon”, 2014

 

 

“Poem of the Night”

June 11, 2012

 

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


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