Saturday, June 30, 2007

Darkest daylight

Even in the daylight, you see, I’m haunted by shadows.
They follow me, remind me, tell me another dark secret
just as a hot body promises with perfume to be a flower.
I stumble under this weight, even at noon with the sun on my bald spot like a crown,
trying to disguise things by making them shiny.
Trying to make this foolish person laugh when there’s nothing really funny.
Trying to make sounds that will echo in the dark and, at that time
I will know them alone by their real names.

Dark fingers can be seen at the corner of things holding on, waiting,
dreaming of the sadness and surprise day will know,
will know soon enough, will stager unable to cope with.
These are the dark fingers we feel inside when, on a hot day we suddenly go cold.
This is the darkness we know as inevitable as that parallel universe
when death closes our eyes and the only light, albeit bright,
will come from dreams as the light we have wrapped as a package
in this profoundly dark and impenetrable paper
is the only light that can be seen,
can be found anywhere in that permanently dark room.

There are no corners in that room, no walls and I wonder if the day
with it’s shapes and turns and rooms and windows
has any idea of what seamlessness the dark contains.
The dark contains the noisy, shiny day as keys clatter in my pocket –
can the day contain the dark
or is the universe grown too large to tolerate such a travesty?

12 comments:

Anonymous said...

This post left me thinking. So many levels to it.

Ruela said...

Love this, nice and dark.

Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks Gautami! It is an honor to think of enough levels to amuse your clever mind. Thanks for that great comment.

Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks Ruela! You know me, my friend!

SzélsőFa said...

Hi,
I found your blog through Living In Poetry - and this great and haunting poem of yours made me think about the things I experience sometimes.
Thanks.

Russell Ragsdale said...

Hi to you in Hungary! I'm so glad you found my blog through Nasra. She is inspiring. I was just at your blog and enjoyed your hawk very much (nice poem). Thanks for the kind words, the visit, and you are always welcome here!

SzélsőFa said...

Russel,
thank you so much. Please consider walking along 'the path' - my *coughs* poetic attempts at the English language are labelled as such.

Anonymous said...

Intriguing in its darkness with layer upon layer. Effectively rendered, Russell!

Russell Ragsdale said...

Hi szelsofa! Thanks, I'll check that out. My second language is Russian but I'm not as good at it as you are at English - BY FAR! You don't need to make any excuses for your poetry, it's just great.

Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks Aurora! I'm glad you liked this. Thanks for those wonderful words, sweet lady.

Amanda said...

I love this phrase!

There are no corners in that room, no walls and I wonder if the day
with it’s shapes and turns and rooms and windows
has any idea of what seamlessness the dark contains.

Russell Ragsdale said...

Hey kiddo thanks! It is great to see an Amanda post on one of my humble works. I'm glad you liked it.