"Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky,
We fell them down and turn them into paper,
That we may record our emptiness."
Khalil Gibran

Sunday, April 16, 2017

Untitled (Streetlights & Rain)

and those who would gladly die for love lang deid-
a skull for a bonnie head-
and love itself a metaphor, rose, red.
Carol Ann Duffy


Shadows Twilight
Gosta Adrian Nilsson (1929)



XVII

All the streetlights are out,
the city drowns under a dank pall
of inky rain clouds;

squalls pelt the deserted
car parks and off-ramps, no voice
but the tinkle on broken glass…

Though I cannot see your face,
my fingers are threaded through yours,
barely alive in a suburb of ghosts

and I would gladly die for love.



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Micro Poetry ~ Streetlight Rain

and linking up with Poetry Pantry #349.

23 comments:

  1. Very bleak and wintry, and dare I say haunting.

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  2. There's something so stark about streetlights and rain... but without them the greasy darkness does take on a haunted quality.

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  3. finger threaded amidst all this surely justifies the closing line...

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  4. I feel a heaviness and sadness as I read this for all the barely there ghosts.

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  5. This is a poem of longing for an unattainable love ...sad and moving !

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  6. Streetlights in the rain on deserted streets set such a baleful scene for love lost. Well said.

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  7. You have set a dark scene and really shown what it is like to long for something so badly you would be willing to die to have it.

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  8. Oh so gorgeous, those laced fingers, and being "barely alive in a suburb of ghosts". Wow.

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  9. This is soooo sighful. Wonderful.
    I think I'm saving the streetlight rain for Tuesday! Haha xo

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  10. Dim and hazy streetlights in the rain are that depressing. Very much akin to pining for the unrequited love!

    Hank

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  11. This stanza is wonderful on its own too!
    'Though I cannot see your face,
    my fingers are threaded through yours,
    barely alive in a suburb of ghosts'.

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  12. What I love about this poem so much, is the sweeping gesture of establishing the look and feel of the night rain. The squalls, the inkiness, the tinkling of broken glass, and you use all of this as a statement of love - or absence there of, is so effective. I love how modern and heartbreaking this is! Viva la!

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  13. Such a palpable longing here--lovely interthreading the ghosts and memory and rain, sense of season passing and death. k.

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  14. "barely alive in a suburb of ghosts" -- this leaves me quite breathless. Wonderful.

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  15. you Spring - or perhaps Autumnal - romantic ~

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  16. Ah. This takes me back to those lovers' strolls on those din lit moist nights. Thank you

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  17. Oh that last line took my breath away, Kerry!!❤️

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  18. Perhaps the speaker already has died for love. Though, I suspect some of us die over and over, not realizing we are caught in a loop on some level of hell.

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  19. 'Twas and dreary day ...
    I'm not sure I've had a love I would die for, probably would have if things came to that. Really dark for me, "barely alive in a suburb of ghosts". Seems a lot are these days.
    ..

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    Replies
    1. Lost a second and third word, " a dark" -- shades here of Snoopy, Longfellow, and Coleridge. Others?
      ..

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  20. How atmospheric this poem is Kerry. Walking with you partner like this with fingers entwined is some comfort when all around is dark.

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  21. Many thanks for so many insightful comments, kind readers. I have learned a lot from these responses.. something of where words go when we release them.

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