Five minutes to midnight the calendar hung itself.
The clock points like a compass to the shoebox on the shelf.
It's the end of an endless Summer
and your heart is an empty room
where the poet and the pendulum sing
of moon, birds and monsters
(different names for the same thing)
of a fairytale about a girl
dusting down the stars
to the rhythm of the night
by the Northern Lights
that hide her love drunk scars.
September, then September.
We are nowhere and it's now
ten seconds before sunrise,
your night has all but run,
a Colorado sunrise - ah, see - here comes the sun.
Author notes
Hey, I've managed to use 19 of the prompt titles in this piece - phew! (they're in italics)
A contest entry
- Title prompts( ready set go ) by Nakatrea.
950 points, ended December 3, 23 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Not quite what I had in mind when I created this contest... but I kinda like it
The only thing that bothers me is that some parts are just totally unrelated, yet its in one big block of text.
Eyes don't like big text blocks.
I would suggest breaking it in a couple places to improves the flow and the italics aren't necessary I find them distracting.
Thanks for entering
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i really love this.
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and what an awesome piece it is...
it sings! your words seem to dance across your canvas of poetry and makes me smile and for this i say thank you and good luck in the contest
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