Because These Things I Must do

 

Waking up to the sound of wind and rain outside my window,

natural elements with the light peering through  the shade

like a shy fog.  The song of cars sailing through the misty waters.

These are the things I am thinking of

when my eyes open to the world on a cold morning.

Under the same sky the houses – some  still

slumbering while others have windows which glow

like diminutive flames.  The dream I was having is slipping away

down to the world from which it came.  The Greeks

used to believe that Sleep and Death came from the underworld.

Sleep would release you, but Death would hold on – hang onto you

(for lack of a better phrase) for dear life.

The birds are waking up now and so have the neighborhood

cats which I can hear slipping at the side of my house –

outside like some apparition trying to find the right path.

I think about you and wonder if you are awake,

looking at the clock

it reads 6:22 AM and I am still tired, wanting the dream back,

and the warm bed,

but I flip my pillow over to the cooler side for comfort.

All these things around me,

the animals that fly in the air

or crawl about, the wind and the rain,

the mechanical beasts which charge down

the concrete pathways which follow

the directions of the compass to someplace

where you might have been,

or may be waiting –

all these living creatures have been released by Sleep.

And the rain above us that

rains on you and I alike

in this same city,

where the houses are active

and the lights are burning,

like the candle which burns inside me for you.

liam

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7 thoughts on “Because These Things I Must do

  • July 13, 2017 at 10:41 PM
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    A cold, sleepy morning. Nice imagery in your poem, William – I can almost hear the rain, and the cars swishing by. Good work.

    Reply
  • July 14, 2017 at 6:31 AM
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    Your visuals are stunning, I too felt every movement inside and out. The cat slipping by the side of your house- I see it clearly and here it’s purr. The machines starting up to break the morning silence, Disturbed sleep, tossing and turning, searching for a cooler side of our pillow. All these we at times go through. Wanting to stay within the dream, not wanting it to end. Missing the touch and embrace of a loved one, hoping it is true, only to find as we sit on the edge of our beds, it’s only a temporary offering, only in our slumber. Arise and start anew, hoping for sleep to come again quickly, so we can reenter our world of dreams. Well written, I felt every word.

    Reply
  • July 14, 2017 at 6:57 AM
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    William, you have stunning descriptions and imagery in your poetry that draws the reader in as though they are part of what is taking place. Well done.

    Reply
  • July 14, 2017 at 7:15 AM
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    thanks folks…originally this was a prosepoem – and i had some punctuation – but i’ve always favored the styles I’ve seen the write without any breaks or proper capitalization because it gives the poem a movement…but i understand your comments.

    thank you for your nice feedback. I’m just getting acclimated to this site.

    Reply
  • July 14, 2017 at 1:04 PM
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    Excellent imagery in this piece William, well written and flowed quick yet seamlessly. Nice work.

    Reply
  • September 9, 2017 at 4:06 AM
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    Very well expressed. I liked the imagery your poetry shows to the reader.
    – hari

    Reply

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