Utter words that you heard in your dreams
The one where you were dying in your sleep
where you fooled a good samaritan
to birth evil in him
leaving him alone in the great expanse
and amidst the sound of windmills
that recycled your pain into causing hurt and
into moving pictures of your damning reverie
Tell them about the time you woke up
into a world of black and white poetry
when you discovered your old journal
that held stale observations of our gilded past
like ‘hope is our middle name’
When we were thrown into a
war of emotions
carnage of feelings or
the naivety of youth
that turned passion into hurting
just because of that word, hope
𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨.
Do you remember the moment
when our body shimmered with acceptance
when your dreams of dying in alternate universes
merged into one thought of finding the utter quite
of sleeping alone
𝘜𝘯𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨.
Do you remember the end of the era
where our noir life accepted colours
We let go of our magnifying glass perspective that
looked into every emotion and every feeling
to end the carnage of war we were in
You no longer felt like dying in your dreams
No longer in the grips of your subconscious
No longer filling journals with things you won’t read
No longer the one with the saviour complex
No longer with me.
NaPoWriMo Day 10 - Finally, here’s our daily prompt (optional, of course!). It’s called “Junk Drawer Song,” and comes to us from the poet Hoa Nguyen. First, find a song with which you are familiar. Listen to the song and take notes as you do, without overthinking it or worrying about your notes making sense. Next, rifle through the objects in your junk drawer. On a separate page from your song-notes page, write about the objects in the drawer, for as long as you care to. Now, bring your two pages of notes together and write a poem that weaves together your ideas and observations from both pages.
The song I chose is Savior Complex by Phoebe Bridgers, which is a brilliant song about a person having a saviour complex (the need to help others while often forgetting themselves). My junk drawer had things like a magnifying glass, a gilded notebook and a black and white picture which I used in the poem above. Hope you like the amalgamation of the two since I had immense fun writing this fictional tale!
Also, this poem is a spiritual sequel to another poem I wrote titled [379] Two Roads Diverged in a Snowy Desert. So if you want to have a better experience, please read that poem as well!
This is so well written, touched by the lines “do you remember the end of the era
where our noir life accepted colours”, loved the poem
Thank you so much!
I’m glad you clarified ‘fictional poem’ at the end. 🙂 ‘We let go of our magnifying perspective that looked into every emotion and every feeling to end the carnage of war we were in’ Beautifully written!
Haha ikr I had to put that disclaimer at the end 😛 Thank you!
NIce. I really like the focus and control in this work. There is movement and development within the writing and in the images – very dynamic. Thank you.
Thank you. I’m glad it came across well 🙂