Thursday, November 19, 2009

Late


Late


Night's metallic deep
tastes like coin
between my teeth.

Steel cold beneath
drags day's bones
down to Davy Jones.

I forgot the combination;
click back and forth
like numbers on a clock.

Ex marks the spot,
but won't unlock the dark.
Lights flicker from the dock;

dits and dahs in code
say take off a load,
hit the hay, go to sleep

or to Hell's gate.
Sink, burn or keep
me as a prize,

because it's late.
Or just too early to rise.


willow, 2009





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image: google

66 comments:

  1. I didn't take this photo, but it looks amazingly like the lights on the dock, across the river from the manor!

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  2. your poetry is always an inspiration to me to write some of my own!

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  3. there is sweet irony in that early late willow. smiles.

    love the imagery in this one, the sinking yet forgetting the combination...hmmm...and the pic is quite wonderful.

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  4. There I was, thinking you'd write of wee ghosties and you never! You leave me bereft of my dose of spooks after midnight.

    Nice post though.

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  5. sounds like scenes from another life...

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  6. Sometimes the combination comes to us after we have fallen asleep.... nice one, Willow. -Jayne

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  7. Wow, Willow! I love the first stanza the best. It's beautiful! :)

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  8. Fab poem, Willow!

    I used to have to deal with combination locks daily. They could sure keep me awake!

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  9. Glad I was able to read "Late" early this morning! I could just about taste the metallic through your words...plenty of mystery here!

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  10. I have a recurring dream of being at my high school locker and not remembering the combination. While I'm at it, the photo looks like many of my dreams in that they are darklit.

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  11. very nice, ladywillow! beautiful flow and rhythm! have a great day!

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  12. Lovely & haunting poem, Willow. Good job.

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  13. Wow, loved the first line...

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  14. Oh, the combination lock dream...I can soooo relate! ha!

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  15. I didn't know what the theme was this week! I've had one of those weeks trying to catch up, busy, busy!

    Loved this! You are my hero!

    much love

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  16. Love this poem! I'm a night person myself and have always enjoyed the mystery of it.

    And I had to stop by here today after reading that our Johnny was recognized again for being the sexy man that he is. ; )

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  17. nice verse..the 1st three lines, wow....and an ominous ending.

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  18. hmmm, went to post my comment and it didn't go through so will have to type it up again which you know what an ordeal That is for me being the horrid typist I am!

    Well, I think the photo you selected goes great with the wonderful poem--has that metallic feel to it even. Another great entry, Willow.

    BTW, I enjoyed your revised profile blurb.

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  19. great photo. esp love the first stanza with that metallic taste.

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  20. Your work conjurs up vivid mental images! Fabulous post! Happy TT!

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  21. my goodness Willow - maybe you should just give up this silly blog stuff and write poetry full time!

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  22. your poem reminds me of my college days for some reason. The late nights, the exes (or in my case the never-weres). one's body does produce a metallic feeling when one is up too late.
    I like how you have subtle pirate references without using "like" or "as."

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  23. I prefer just to early to rise Willow!
    Lovely.

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  24. I interrupt this POST to remind Willow and her followers that the program/tribute on Johnny Mercer is airing at 6:00 EST (in 3 mins) on Turner Classic Movies...hope you catch a tune or two!

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  25. Just lovely. I can taste the metal. Feel the chill.

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  26. Merisi,

    "now, forty years later, things have changed"

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  27. Thanks for the reminder, FireLight!! Hope some of you get to catch it tonight, who missed it last week.

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  28. Ah Willow, you are indeed a poet.

    This one...

    Night's metallic deep
    tastes like coin
    between my teeth.

    ...gave me cold chills... and that is the mark of a dazzler's way with words.

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  29. Nice - the emotionality of the senses, the pull of the day's/the night's lateness upon all our perceptions. Well-drawn.

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  30. Arrgh, Jen, I love a subtle bit of pirate talk. ;^)

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  31. Beautiful poem Willow. "because it's late. Or just too early to rise". I love that and it's found its way into my pocketbook.

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  32. "hit the hay, go to sleep...."
    I think you have been keeping your artistic clock wound up while on your own ? Just maybe? ....I do the same all summmer and during holiday breaks....up late...or early depending on whose clock you may be measured by...and running a house and managing a family....rarely is it your own....
    I can relate to "Late."
    I love being up and working on a project during the wee hours.

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  33. Willow weep for me.

    Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion,
    but an escape from emotion.
    ( T.S. Elliot )
    OR maybe;;
    A poet is a nightingale
    who sits in darkness and sings to cheer it;s own solitude with sweet sounds. (Shelly)
    Very beautiful! sweet one.
    Yvonne

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  34. "Night's metallic deep
    tastes like coin
    between my teeth."
    YEAH, that is SO GOOD!!!
    Wonderful poem and pic.
    Happy tt!

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  35. I have some of my best thoughts when falling asleep. Love your poetry.

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  36. Just watched The Mayor of Casterbridge. I think you are the one that mentioned. It was wonderful.
    Amazing poem.
    QMM

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  37. Wonderful post, the picture is so amazing, the use of the light/darkness.

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  38. This is lovely..and that photo is perfect!

    St. Brigid is no doubt smiling on you, dear Willow:)

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  39. you just described my insomniatic ways.

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  40. Your writing is always so strong, Willow. It brings up many images in my mind as I read it. xx

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  41. I love dusky photographs with twinkly lights--- and the words to match.

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  42. "The century grinds on."

    I was wondering whether you had been inspired by Atwood's "Secular Night" - one of my alltime favorite poems.

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  43. Lot of favorite dits and dahs here. Especially like: "Night's metallic deep tastes like coin between my teeth."

    That photo does have a haunting feel to it.

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  44. I didn't realise you lived beside water - it must be such an idyllic spot, willow.

    Lovely poem as ever

    x

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  45. The one thing that I cannot do is to draw meaning out of poetry. Maybe it is just the thought that I might get it wrong, and I hate being wrong! It is very nicely written, I just really feel ignorant sometimes!

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  46. We All Have A Prize & We Are All Late In Finding It!
    Great Big Poem Willow.
    T.

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  47. I got your message. Thank you. I always enjoy your poetic works. They inspire me to do something new. I like your use of tastes and imagined sounds to describe the "neither" hours. Neither wake nor sleep. Pappy

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  48. Rising early is better for me than sleepless all night, to nod off for 2 minutes at dawn, and rise in a stupor..great poetry!

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  49. I need to write something about the dentists.

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  50. I was thinking of posting "Late", late.
    Is this a dream, within a dream? (Sorry, Alan Parsons crept in there.)
    It's like a series of haikus about a nightmare. So many crystal clear images, I could go on and on. You may gather I liked this one a great deal.

    (What's a "wooly-sock" flick, by the way?) I do love both Bergmans and will have to get hold of this film.

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  51. Thanks, Kat, I'm honored when you like my stuff.

    I fondly call a "curl up and enjoy the show" kind of movie a "woolly socks flick". "Autumn Sonata" is definitely NOT one. It's very intense.

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  52. I am speechless....that was so wonderful I don't even know what to say....and I love the photograph you picked to go with it...

    I don't even know how I got here this morning...but lucky me...

    I see Mr. Toast is here (he is MY FAVORITE)..maybe that's how..

    But I will be following you...

    Just Lovely,
    Kary

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  53. Lovely, slightly creepy poem willow.

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  54. I believe old Will Shakespeare may have had you in mind, Willow, when he wrote: "Much is the force of heaven-bred poetry."

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  55. French Fancy, yes, the manor is on the banks of the Scioto River. (pronounced sigh-OH-toe)

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  56. Thanks for taking the time to stop by. I LOVE being at Willow Manor...it makes me HAPPY...and I know that fruitcake....hopefully I can get this one right with the dried fruit and nuts..I'll post picture and recipe when I make it...


    More Later,
    Kary

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  57. Love it, love it, love it.

    The Zhivago hat is working wonders, I see. ;)

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  58. It's almost like someone walking into the lake.It really reminds me of the film garage.Did you ever get to see it Willow? This poem would fit.Those first three lines are magic.It's impossible to fault them and they are so original>i 'm lured by the 'tastes like coin' Not 'a coin' or 'coins' It just works so well.Could this be the night air before the steel cold of the water? Almost like home/sanctuary/sanity is lost or unrecognisable.It is enigmatic yet saysso many things and probably a different thing to each reader.I really like it.I'd love to know the thinking /inspiration behind it.

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  59. The imagery is profound and well-executed in sucession of events. I can imagine the weightiness beginning with the sinking like lead through water in the mouth, like a National Geographic sailor found on an early exploration by Perry or Henry Hudson, dead from too much lead, his mouth looking horrible. (I have a pic like this of myself!) Anyhow..get some sleep..i hear that there are natural chelation methods, dont go for those other kinds they are dangerous! ps Johnny Depp will save you, think of you and he in Pirates of the Carribean and you'll be asleep in no time. Wasnt Depp just pegged as The Sexiest Man Ever? Such Choclate brown mezmerizing eyes..sure can dream..hell yah, hell can wait..i got Johnny!

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  60. A great blend of image and text.

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Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence.
― O. Henry (and me)