Now

This piece is about being pursed by the beast of time — and the ghost of memory.

 
Nightfall
now — the darkness descends
the hand of grief extends
terror is knocking at the door

nightfall
words of sorrow stain my lips
slip through my fingertips
and scatter ‘cross the floor

nightfall
the shadows hide my tears
but I am haunted by my fears
I am broken evermore

nightfall
dark waves of misery
are rising like the sea
I am stranded on the shore

nightfall
I am lost — I am alone
confusion grips me to the bone
horror chills me to my core

nightfall
I hear something growl my name
have I finally gone insane
be gone — I fearfully implore

but again the dark thing calls
no — this must be just a dream
what else can it mean
I’ll lay quiet and ignore

yes — I’ve simply been asleep
albeit very very deep
soon my eyes will open
as this nightmare’s spell is broken

soon the sun must rise — for sure
but… a blood-curd-ling encore
the midnight snarl is there once more
now it’s clawing at my door…

I’m so afraid I’ll forget what for…

*
rob kistner © 2013 (original)
rob kistner © 2023 (edited version)

More poetry at: dVerse

More poetry at: eartheeal

More poetry at: Poets & Storytellers

 


38 thoughts on “Now”

    1. Thank Tricia. I think repetition can be very engaging, even if it is just a single repetition. I use single repetition comfortably. And repetition does not have to be the exact same word. Repeating a second word that has the same meaning, or emotional impact of a prior word, can be just as effective.

    1. Thank you Jay. Going deep into the black veil is a catharsis for me, it’s how I purge the darkness. I have always been an emotional dichotomy, in that my ADD will have me prattling along, the jokester, but my heart of hearts is melancholy. I like to laugh, but I love to cry, and can swing easily between the two. Bottom line, I love to feel emotion at the edge, be it light or dark.

  1. My dreams are normally not the stuff of nightmares, but when they are I believe advancing age triggers them … awaking with a feeling of dread, realizing the clock is ticking, I am usually lost in a maze, trying to claw my way out. Another awesome write, Rob.

  2. How is it we already know how to dance with the macabre — an old, jiving instinct when the dreadful comes. This whistles tunefully in that dark.

    1. We think we are weak, that we can’t do it, no matter the darkness that descends — but Brendan, we find out we can and will. We are designed to survive, if we only shut the fear out — with a giant ringing FUCK YOU!

  3. I’ve been having some sleep/dream/nightmare issues lately & am feeling paper thin fairly often, all day long. It’s been both plus and minus for the writing.
    Admirable work, Bro. Thanks.

    1. Thank you Ron. Keep the faith brother! I have been in emotional chaos since my Kathy was diagnosed with cancer last week. Suddenly my problems don’t feel very important. All I can think about is helping her fight.

  4. What a chilling way to describe the nightmare… I especially love how you work in that hesitation if it’s for real or not.
    And maybe in the end returning to the beginning.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *