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darkest hour
by Maureen Glaudedamn the digits glowing
on your clock radio
allies of the streak of light
stealing greedy entrance
through your bedroom blinds
and of the yaps of the neighbours bitch
after her first put-out of the day
like her, Ill need to be put out
in that soon hour of reckoning
the logic and press of convention
removing me from the press of you
the darkness of all our dawns
lets reality intrude into
our sliver of moonlight
moments of delight
these scant interim nights are warm
with hiatus to own ourselves, each other
when she, the one you've wed, lies impotent
(in her out-of-town status), to separate us
but the rocking of our cradle comes yet again
and you'll resume your contract ritual
deny it as you may, our vows to one another
depend on darkness
and must always be broken
come the audacious hour
of her return, to you
and yours, to her; the alarm that
hustles my retreat
09/27/2004
Author's Note: An Aubade ("oh bad"! pardon the pun) draft.
The narrator "I" here is fictional, as often is the case in my use of first person poems. Coming from an acting background, I like to write from other persona this way sometimes.
Posted on 09/27/2004
Copyright © 2024 Maureen Glaude
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 09/28/04 at 01:55 AM Wow...sounds like a modern version of some Shakespearian tragedy in its dark expression, mixed all too briefly with a flash of glimmer (our sliver of moonlight moments of delight). As you've commented in your Author's Note, I don't see this as a reflection of your real life, but more an exercise in acting, like your Joan of Arc piece, or the time in your Ottawa U drama class when you had to run screaming hyserically out onto the street; "Cry Havoc! and let slip the dogs of war." |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 09/29/04 at 01:31 AM Adultry has its price! You catch the sense of frustration, unconfessed guilt, and basic loneliness of the "other woman". |
| Posted by Ashok Sharda on 09/30/04 at 04:47 PM yes, this is more of 'not so subjective' way of seeing by changing positions. Realities keeps on changing its meaning with the change in this position. Can realities ever be objective? |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 09/30/04 at 10:01 PM Read this but neglected to comment - now I'm wondering why, since first posting, you felt the need to extend the author's note...just the inference in the comment, I guess?
Whatever, I'm thoroughly ashamed to say I empathised with this, though not, of course, in the way people might think :> |
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