Who stole the dark,
Where did night go,
Who turned all black to blue and glow,
L E D to O C D,
No fade to pitch, I constant-see.
How can we dream, incessant light,
My raw honed urge to think at night,
Now everyone owns text and screen,
There is no time when we’re not seen.
Hand back my true nocturnal pause,
Not just for sleep, this poet’s cause,
I need my hours when I am blind,
Turn off those things, here’s what you’ll find.
Music lives to play at night
Notes like fireflies, dance in flight,
Smell the air when all is black
You’ll taste the world, a tactile snack.
Kiss her when she can't see you,
Surprise her with a touch or two,
Whisper in her ear and shiver,
In darkness she will arch and quiver.
One week each year is all I ask
All light switched off, a worldwide task,
I beg this ghost returned to all,
Dreams ignite when darkness falls.
REPOST- Just time fo this one to see the light of day again. It is never dark anymore!!____
This is play to me. I struggle at staying in a kind of zone and there is something youthful about rhyme. It's word play and makes me want to be playful. Always being in a lit world is exhausting, dulls our imagination. Only art can save us-- poets rise up and speak everyday. We must find a better way to be-- at least I must. HH
