THE NOCTURNAL SCENE

Effervescence by Luro 

the witch dance is over 
no more prophecies for Macbeth 
cauldron almost empty 
with the last bit of effervescence 
after the final stir
daylight never penetrates down here
yet a new dawn is promised 
before the night slumbers 
the wolves howl 
from a distance
the forest is awake
all the branches bow 
before the invisible ghost
and the nocturnal scene begins. 

-Luro 





Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

MORE BITS, MORE PIECES

More bits, more pieces.  Absorb all the noise you can  when you turn the switches on and off the clinking of glasses  when the chains of the swing move back and forth  when the clock ticks  the sound of rain drops  beating down  I write I dream  but don't sleep  yet I keep waking up  I want to fall asleep  without actually falling asleep  the chair is empty the posters have fallen down not taken down  they were immobile for so long  now they move  the wall paint has faded  the phone refuses to get charged  and the fan has decided to spin  slower than before.  the adamant door doesn't close  the cupboards are wide open  just like my eyes  my fingers hit the keyboard  but words aren't born  just erased.  deleted.  the screen stares back at me  as I wink  the milk tastes so sad  with a sad- flavoured slice of bread  cheese wants to stay away...
Read more

OTHERWORLDLINESS

Image
Real and imaginary - art by Luro I was transported  to another world to another realm    days don't preceed nights here I was there  but not fully "there" a piece of me was here  but the remaining pieces were elsewhere  travelling through the metaphysical space  I knew about what "otherworldliness" meant  but it sounded too good to be true, or too bad to be false  I couldn't decide so I didn't take sides didn't want to.  incoherent mutterings tickling my ears My body— still but not all that still  Between freezing and melting  into nightmares  into dreams  abounding with hallucinations  ethereal but not so ethereal  stages of sleep paralysis  my supine self was going through  shuddering and shuddering  involuntary movements had a hold on me I wasn't sure which world I was in the real or the unreal It was hard to differentiate  no sense of time or space  no sense of "self"...
Read more

WHAT A SHAME!

Image
This city - art by Luro  this city counts its nights spent in rejoicing  and turns back the clock, to the glory days old but brand new triumph  the ancient yet modern way  of crying without tears  to get a dose of sleep  you'd do anything to get it even kill if you have to  automobiles and their glaring headlights  wet, black, shiny asphalt roads  pavements buying solitude like groceries  long for people who would care to stop by  nobody receives  hand-written letters anymore  no stamps to paste on envelopes  no more mail boxes in every nook and corner of the street  the art of waiting patiently is over  connections with friends and strangers  seems the same  four- hour heart to heart conversations  are reduced to winks and nods  or hand gestures when you cross paths  unwillingly.  what a shame!  we're too busy so caught up  that we can't see beyond...
Read more