a little night music
title: a little night music
original: poem
rating: K+
also archived: on fictionpress.com
original publish date: 1 june 2006
a little night music
i play the timid shell of a musician
hiding behind my façade of anonymity;
i want nothing more than this.
but as the setting sun
bids farewell to the crescent moon,
i live.
the dark illuminates my comforot zone
for the no man's land it is.
my own variations on langston's dreams
call for the part of a poet
and the heart emerges,
not needing to squint against
the harsh and unforgiving sun.
diana's sliver does not reject
the silver doesn't scorn or burn-
the dreamer comes out;
and i play.
the twilight is my dawn.
the friar warned of veiled vice,
but was blind to hidden virtue.
as darkness descends,
i find myself
among the shadows cast of starlight.
the poet, here among the shining black slate of the lake, its ripples, calm and clean.
the actress, waiting in the wings for my cues, the smoky gossamer wisps of clouds.
the dreamer, there, look! do you see me in the moon's aura?
the playwright, you may read my lines in the twinkling chatter of the heavens.
the artist, i've painted this silence especially for you.
the dancer, peer through the shadows and see me whirl, bare feet against cool waves of grass.
the musician, not the shell, but the soul--can you hear my music in the stillness?
as the sun triumphs, rises to vanquish visions of my night,
no one misses me- the poet, the dreamer, the soul-
as i crawl back to hide within my shell
with a mona lisa smile.
---
original a/n: i wrote being inspired by a totally random day... hope you liked it. -xan
added notes: 15 november 2009~ i still really love this poem. though, i have to laugh at my not so subtle references to night visions. i c wat u did thar, freshman me XD
original: poem
rating: K+
also archived: on fictionpress.com
original publish date: 1 june 2006
a little night music
i play the timid shell of a musician
hiding behind my façade of anonymity;
i want nothing more than this.
but as the setting sun
bids farewell to the crescent moon,
i live.
the dark illuminates my comforot zone
for the no man's land it is.
my own variations on langston's dreams
call for the part of a poet
and the heart emerges,
not needing to squint against
the harsh and unforgiving sun.
diana's sliver does not reject
the silver doesn't scorn or burn-
the dreamer comes out;
and i play.
the twilight is my dawn.
the friar warned of veiled vice,
but was blind to hidden virtue.
as darkness descends,
i find myself
among the shadows cast of starlight.
the poet, here among the shining black slate of the lake, its ripples, calm and clean.
the actress, waiting in the wings for my cues, the smoky gossamer wisps of clouds.
the dreamer, there, look! do you see me in the moon's aura?
the playwright, you may read my lines in the twinkling chatter of the heavens.
the artist, i've painted this silence especially for you.
the dancer, peer through the shadows and see me whirl, bare feet against cool waves of grass.
the musician, not the shell, but the soul--can you hear my music in the stillness?
as the sun triumphs, rises to vanquish visions of my night,
no one misses me- the poet, the dreamer, the soul-
as i crawl back to hide within my shell
with a mona lisa smile.
---
original a/n: i wrote being inspired by a totally random day... hope you liked it. -xan
added notes: 15 november 2009~ i still really love this poem. though, i have to laugh at my not so subtle references to night visions. i c wat u did thar, freshman me XD