Crazy to sit here like this in the middle of the night surrounded by a chill and the silence of a billion stars. Getting lost in the distances and confused by the length of my arms poking into darkness.
I crave a sandwich and a tall glass of milk in a well lighted kitchen with a kitchen smell where there's a round table covered with a tablecloth yellow and blue. And a red candle glows.
And the little white lights way up high sparkle like the eyes of a big black bird.
And the bird is flying through the dark all the way into the night.
Then a moment arrives to move the billion stars into my little white bag. It's too heavy to pick up so I push it under the tallest tree I can find. The tree sighs and shakes his heavy head.
It's crazy in the middle of the night. I know the tree will kick the bag open. I know the big black bird will sit on my stars and claim them for his own.
2.
I danced in the jungle with my foot a'shaking. The beat more than I
could bare. The wind was a'blowing. The trees were a'bending like the road I drove
in on. Nearly lost my life twice to speed and whiskey. And all I could feel was the
road under me. It felt hard, the road under me.
3.
Even in the middle of the night they still talked about a risky moon. A moon rich in gold. A moon like bacon, crispy and wrinkled. A moon tossed against a tall black wall. He swore it was higher than the sky and colder than winter.
Then the moon cried real white tears splashing into moon like memories covered with the ancient dust of lost love. The crying echoed like thunder and split the night in two. And one half raised a glass and the other blew a billion kisses.
Yes yes yes!
(Jane used all the yeses)
All the brightness of a nova, this one. *
Thanks so much Jane and Brenda!
I think there's something in this Arizona air.
*
There's something messy and fun about these pieces and I enjoyed them very much.
The moon never disappoints. I love the dreaminess in this, Tim. *
Having just been out three times to try and find Gemini (found it!) in the brilliant night sky, I can particularly relate to part 1. I love the moon in part 3, though. This sparkles. *
Thank you Carol, Charlotte and Beate.
Much appreciated. So glad to have these opportunities.
"A moon like bacon, crispy and wrinkled." Think I howled at that moon a few times. Good stuff, man.*
Pleased as is the moon, Gary.
Love the messinees and the hope and the belief in trudging on in this one. "*"
Sigh. Makes me glad for sobriety, but I get the ache of millions of stars from a little white bag.
I, too, crave that sandwich.
A poem from the depths; such wonderful depths, too. Beautiful.
This is so beautiful!!
Thank you so much all and everyone!!!
I love these night poems! :)
Hi Christina, thanks so much!
"Then a moment arrives to move the billion stars into my little white bag. It's too heavy to pick up so I push it under the tallest tree I can find. The tree sighs and shakes his heavy head." Just wonderful Tim.
Evocative of Tom Waits (one of my favourite lyricists)
Wow. Just saw these comments from Philip and Reva. Thank you so much!
Nice. Seems true.
Thank you W.R.
I mistook the moon for a lightbulb, once . . .
With a simplicity that evokes the ageless innocence of The Little Prince, yet with an undertone that bites like Henry M... this will accompany for some time yet, Tim. x AB
Much appreciated and thanks, Amantine.
Love the playful surrealism of this where the stars and the moon assume almost human qualities
Love the playful surrealism of this where the stars and the moon assume almost human qualities
Love the playful surrealism of this where the stars and the moon assume almost human qualities
Love the playful surrealism of this where the stars and the moon assume almost human qualities
Love the playful surrealism of this where the stars and the moon assume almost human qualities
Many thanks, Kyle.