Night Riding

April 7, 2007

There’s something about
getting out of bed
in the middle of the night,
at a time when
everyone else in the house,
the block, the street,
the city, the world-
is sleeping.
There’s something about
being the only one awake,
sitting up late, at an hour
so broken down
it’s slipped beyond the zone
in which it could have been
repaired. There’s something about
that conjuring out
of nightworkers-
that you have always done
in that small box
inside your head –
ever since you were a child
and trying to find
some way of coping
with the world being dead-
there’s just something about
all this
that makes you think
of all the brittle shards
of all the broken things,
that you were hoping that you’d
never have to see,
that when you were a child
you hummed to keep away –
that daylight makes so quiet-
that’s stupid as the
artexed ceiling-
as star gazing plaster
at 2 and 3 and 6.
Something
like weather and rainbows
and cancer
that can’t go on much longer.

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4 Responses to “Night Riding”

  1. tomachfive said

    the night can be a refuge.

  2. catherine said

    Saw your comment about NaPoWriMo – I had the feeling you were already writing a poem a day, even before April đŸ™‚
    I like the line about the hour “so broken down/it’s slipped beyond the zone/in which it could have been/repaired” (OK, so it’s three and a half lines. I like it, anyway)

  3. Tomach-yes, sometimes.

    Catherine- Thanks, I was quite pleased with that line-an edit will help the rest-I’ll come back to it.
    Ironically, with the whole NaPoWriMo thing, I’ve not been as active as normal-but then I’m quite focused on this Freedom thing at the mo and that’s prob thrown my normal routine out slightly.

    Love the things you’ve been putting up on your site recently-really enjoyed the investigative quality of the writing-didn’t comment on Yield – but thought it was great.

  4. Wow! Nice piece. hits hard.

    I am a night poet and artist. I find the quiet, solitude, safety, and sleepiness frees my unfiltered heart. Some of my favorite stuff is created at night, while my wife sleeps soundly.

    …Rob

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