Am meisten gelesen ▸
Dave Bonta
in my wife’s painting
something of midnight
a bed is a ship
being taken round
to the north
times I find my head
I come to be more supple
at noon doing midnight
and the bed as fallen as me
her letter tells me
to go and I go on
making myself fit
into the midnight clock
Twelve o’clock, and I go hunting
with a tin box to carry
spice to the dead,
which trouble me;
get nothing and see little—
like a history of twelve at night.
It's Midnight and I'm thinking of you.
I wish I could sleep
But my mind races to you at random moments of the night.
I wish you would vanish from my mind so I can finally get a good night sleep.
I am pieces of quotes
From my favorite books
Stitched together by midnight conversations
And the sweet taste of Tea
I have this tendency
to fall apart suddenly
And i need you to be okay with this
Because am created by the souls
Who are brave enough
To gather all my tattered pieces
And put me back together!
Twelve.
Waking up from fitful dozing
I heard the yelling and screaming
Of boys bypassing the bus in their bikes
Screaming, “ Happy New Year!”
I look around my fellow passengers –
We have yet a long way to reach home
There wouldn’t be much of a New Year celebration
For us; I love my fellow travelers.
I fall into a reverie, remembering New Years –
Ruefully, I remember those, drunken, partying kinds
That of lying in the middle of a highway at night
That of dizzying hopping from bar to bar
That spent on the top of a hill, shivering in the cold
That by the side of the sea where I would part with my love.
I remember the New Years, lacklustre, spent at home
Inside she's a wreck
When you see her she's perfectly fine
Deep down her mind is a fucking mess
When she's with you she seems happy
When she's alone she's fragile like glass.
The girl full of hopes and dreams
She wants to escape her home where she cant sleep peacefully
She wants to meet new people, explore the world go on fun road trips
She wants to feel happy again
And at midnight if you ask her
"Are you okay"
And she says I'm fine
She won't be lying this time
I know it's silly
but I used to play a game
in my head
trying to find a reason
to believe you might change
your mind
If that car turns left, you still love me
If it's not past midnight, you still love me
If that girl sits in that chair, you still love me
If it's sunny tomorrow, you still love me
and I don't think I ever really believed
that stupid game would mean anything
but now I know for sure it didn't
because that car turned left
it was not yet midnight
that girl sat in that chair
I heard an old gibbet that crowned a bare hill
Creaking a song in the midnight chill;
And I shivered to hear that grisly refrain
That moaned in the night through the fog and the rain.
“Oh, where are the men who came to me
“And danced all night on the gallows tree?
“Gallant and peasant, man and maid,
“Many have walked in that long parade.
“My chains are broken and red with rust,
“My wood is sealed with the moldy crust.
“Have men forgotten their debt to me,
“That they come no more to the gallows tree?”
The drear wind moaned for a dark refrain,
And a raven called in the drifting rain:
“Oh, where are the feasts that awaited me
“Long, long ago on the gibbet tree?”
Now at last I have come to see what life is,
Nothing is ever ended, everything only begun,
And the brave victories that seem so splendid
Are never really won.
Even love that I built my spirit's house for,
Comes like a brooding and a baffled guest,
And music and men's praise and even laughter
Are not so good as rest.
There will be stars over the place forever;
Though the house we loved and the street we loved are lost,
Every time the earth circles her orbit
On the night the autumn equinox is crossed,
Two stars we knew, poised on the peak of midnight
Will reach their zenith; stillness will be deep;
There will be stars over the place forever,
There will be stars forever, while we sleep.