From my  window   a sliver of  moon casts a haze over the water and I listen to the  rush of soft waves. Those  creatures beneath the depths,  do they sleep,  dream?  If  parted do they grieve?  Down the street  I can see  lights from  an all night store, a man stands behind the counter.  Cautiously he  slips his hand under his jacket and takes a long swig from a  bottle.   A group of young thugs gather outside the storefront.   I imagine them  harming the storekeeper.  Distracted by the young whore taking shelter in a doorway,  they laugh at her and whisper. Oblivious to her vulnerability she sleeps as though she has never heard of  birds of prey that swoop down with unblinking eyes, hungry beaks, and talons poised for butchery.   I watch closely in case I need to call out a warning  but losing interest they disappear into the dark.

Maybe nothing is real, maybe everything I think,  everything I see or hear is all in my head.  I lose focus  and the burn of you stings just below my surface.   I want to sleep,  forget the sound of your voice,   your unforgiving eyes,  not give a damn about you.

 

 

 

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97 thoughts on “Night Life

  1. It’s as though you are looking through a window, from my very urban home.
    It’s not the nicest place, but it’s real, and easy to not give a damn when you’ve learned to fall asleep to the screams of cars and trolleys.
    I adore this piece. ❤

    Liked by 2 people

      1. TY! My computer crashed! Just getting back at it.
        Yeah, I love living in the city. So, there’s a homeless couple living on the cement step next door. They are 8 inches off the sidewalk, at a bus stop. People just stare. Some go to MacDonalds and leave food for them.
        They have tarps and stuff. They sleep at one end, and pee at the other.
        They were hanging heavy stuff on the gas lines. I had to call the gas company. I said the homeless people were nice, and please be cool. The GC came, and explained that they could blow up the hood.
        Anyway, they aren’t hanging stuff off of the gas lines any more.
        Holly, it’s like -35C here at night. Still, they sleep there.
        It makes me think of Em. Except, Em has it better, thanks to Gi.
        I’m just…. freaked!!

        Liked by 2 people

  2. I don’t think I breathed while reading this, everyone on the brink of danger, unsuspecting, and spared by simple turns of chance. What a scary scene. And then the narrator’s disorientation. Wow. Beautifully written as always.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Reblogged this on Notes and commented:
    “I want to sleep, forget the sound of your voice, your unforgiving eyes, not give a damn about you.” Need I say more! Oh and her selection of the video song alongwith this masterpiece. Just perfect.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Merci Gyslaine, the homeless have become a common sight in most cities. It is a way of life for addicts, others have fallen on bad times having lost their jobs, etc., the saddest is children who have no recourse. It’s a huge dilemma that needs strong legislation, rather than wasting money on a “wall”.

      Liked by 1 person

          1. Yeah, but friendly caring hugs between friends are allowed—she’s want to add her own! Folks at church and one or two cousins I still have…… certain poets would be included…I’d be a gentleman—BETTER BE! 🙂

            Liked by 1 person

  4. Night life, you did a great description, what I don´t understand ( only me… a bit short) at the end is that you talk about this character that is mad at a guy, nothing wrong with that but how did that last part tie in with the description of the nigh life. Is it that he was involved in that life?

    I know is writing, creativity, I just wanted to pick a bit of your brain as to why, your process in writting this post. Just curious, I learn from you wordpress people, you are my online teachers.

    P.S. About the other post that I already read and I WILL hit like, Mr. Toritto, he´s quite good to say the least.

    Loooooove ya, from Mr. Crazy Charly Priest, do not confess to me.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Well, this protagonist is suffering from insomnia. She’s a bit whacky pining over her lost love. She lives on the beach so she hears the ocean and wonders about the creatures of the deep. down the way nite life is distracting her and being an empath she wants to rescue those in danger. Bottom line. She’s crazy.

      Like

  5. I love how you can put me in the scene and tell a complete story in so few lines. I saw the focus so strongly outward, perhaps a distraction to avoid that last inward view, which seems inevitable. Emotional and gripping in the telling of what she sees. The video was mesmerizing, like a waking dream. Together the words and video, the music, all seemed the confluence of the lives colliding then simply dissolving away in the woman’s thoughts of her heart’s sad melody. Brilliant and beautiful.

    Liked by 2 people

      1. You express your visions in such unique and beautiful ways, Rene. My Head Elves are always mesmerized by the majestic scenes and soulful thoughts projected by the speaker. I admire how you can address the darker or lighter emotions in a way that I can FEEL as I see the scene. I look forward to those brief escapes into another set of eyes.

        Liked by 2 people

        1. That’s so kind and generous and inspiring Dan, your encouragement means so much and is so appreciated, I thank you and your head elves from the bottom of my heart . I’ve missed you and so glad to see you here.

          Liked by 1 person

          1. I’m happy you are inspired. It’s definitely a shared pleasure. I’m in Tallahassee at the moment. My soul is at peace to return to the old homestead. I bid bon voyage to my 103 year old grandfather who lived in the same house for 98 years. He joins my grandmother and my mother. They are a family again. The pull of the ocean is strong here. Easy to come yet so hard to leave.

            Liked by 2 people

          2. Thank you Rene. There is no sadness in celebrating the life of such a remarkable man. You would have enjoyed him a lot. I know he would have inspired many poems. At 103, the ladies still fought over him. He would flash his rakish smile and the fight was on. It is an honor to see to it that his last sail is his best.

            Liked by 2 people

          3. I’m glad Dan, that you are celebrating his life, it sounds as though he had a good full life. 103 and fighting off the ladies. That brings a huge smile to my face. How wonderful that is.

            Like

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