Up Late

-Inspired by my temporary English instructor, Mr. Phinizy 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Evening had diminished to night; how very quickly did She fly It is funny how quickly time passes, as if our brains tweak the clocks of life The night was of moderate warmth, and my house suffered terribly still And with the stifling heat inside, many hot questions filtered through my mind I asked myself, Where did the summer go? Why must our suns die? Why is it sweltering in September? Why has sudden anger blown her aside? I really need some sleep, thought I, looking at my face through the murky glass Tracing dark circles under my eyes, I was reminded of sagging Death longing to ensnare me Yes, Death followed me that night, dwelling upon me, boiling away the autumn breeze As I looked into my sleep-deprived eyes, I knew Death waited for my ultimate slumber, When all commemoration of time, that flew so rapidly before, suddenly just…stops. With many a sigh, I turned on the faucet, soaking my hands in the cool, flowing water I needed some relief from the heat…I needed a refreshing new idea, I needed cleansing Anything to clear my mind of the negativity daring to break me every day of my life For such depressing thoughts spewed forth like a wild river, the rapids racking my brain But these waters were not living; they were dead and hot like blue blazes of hell I turned off the faucet, for there was no Balm on this earth to sooth this soul There was no clock on this earth tweaked enough to return me to earth The warm breezes, the sickly pale cast of many thoughts had driven Her away And though the everlasting sleep of Death sounded soothing, the Balm does not assuage me… It only burns forever, in obstinate constancy; angered to the core, That night stuck in this fractured rhyme of time, I was up late…too late
Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Kilmer Avatar
October 27, 2013 at 10:55 PM
Hot, steamy, and uncomfortable. Sounds like the deep south in September to me. Sleeping porches and attic fans, but nothing can make you sleep except a content mind. Sleep quietly. Someone is watching over you. ~Kilmer
Johnson Avatar
January 20, 2012 at 4:03 PM
onward we go till comatose, to sift through truth n lies, brainwashing by the media shows, deceitful pollie, lies, corrupting no surprise, in multitude of guise, but karma of the putrid soul, waits to dim their eyes... thanks Laura B.....Don
Breidenthal Avatar
February 10, 2012 at 1:40 PM
Your poetry comments are rocking!
Horsman Avatar
January 9, 2012 at 2:19 PM
interesting poem, Laura, enjoyed. harry
Carlson Avatar
January 8, 2012 at 3:17 PM
I have come to expect nothing different from you. ENDING WAS SICK-NASTY! - Kyle
Breidenthal Avatar
January 8, 2012 at 3:31 PM
:D Uhhh...thanks? Always, Laura
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace