with the lights on
there is nothing to fear
this is just another hotel room
a place for
an itinerate soul to visit
everything seems in place
when the lights are off
this place becomes a prison
nothing is where it’s supposed to be
is quicksand beneath my feet
the door has bars of anger
holding back my freedom
my thoughts rattle
around the room
seeking a familiar corner
the air is foul
stale with formality
has no place to hide
it cannot find
a warm spot to rest
so it paces
back and forth
in my mind
refusing to rest
until the dawn
when i release it outside
where it can run away from me
and swing in the trees
with childish expectations
but it is hours
so i sit alone
with the lights
This poem represents my last response to the second challenge series between Jade and I. As you may recall, each poet provides the other with a series of photos, visual prompts, from which the poet is to write a poem. Jade has written her response which can be found here.
i actually have this feeling right now..
Things aren’t always what they seem…interesting how the mind confronts it’s fears when the “light is gone”. Makes me think of my own childhood and how safe I felt sleeping with the lights on.
Enjoyed this poem…nice way to end the photo challenge.
Incredibly incredibly beautiful… brought tears to my eyes… your presene in the world is so healing, Charlie… you are a blessing to all those fortunate enough to surround You. Thank you for this beautiful challenege!
And so I like the snugness of my home… no pretense, and all natural!
Loved this poem!
Night + no sleep + hotel room – WiFi = discomforting thoughts!
Been there! 😦
and a superb scriber, as well! ;-))
I would sit with you so you would not be alone with misery. 🙂 Heartspell
Oooh! The haunted hotel! Very interesting to read. Keep the lights on… Thank you for sharing.
Amazing how deeply, how fully, our minds can use an image or a thought or a word to spin out a full-blooded “experience”. Excellent.
You do it every time!! Brilliant Charles x
you do this very well – and achieve that spot, under those lights
The magic of light and darkness, when we are sitting still, play tricks on us. when we close our eyes, do we become invisible, to the world. The mind walks a fine line between the real real and the sublime. Maybe the world is nothing but a dream full of blue smoke and mirrors. Indeed, we are more than that. We have reason to think and wonder about God and where he shall take man
I am tagging you with the Happy Award.
this is fabulous. what a beautiful portrayal.
Hotel room haunted by inner demon. Nicely done. You are always up to these wonderful photo/poem challgenges.
This is how I feel when I travel alone!
It intrigues me how you can, from a simple photo, snatch words and emotions from your mind and build a story like this. Well done, my friend.