Late January

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12 A.M.
I held my heart 
as outside it began to rain,
the cry of an owl
told me the uncaring knew not change 
they dupe the eyes of men,
dare I storm into their hideout and take a chance?

There is a colourable look that you wear
that maddens the eye and blows
my mind,

words that follow seem dipped in
shades of red,
this saucy drumming has given me a pain in my head. 
You see the problem with being the strong one
is knowing 
wooden hearts will never bend.
Come morning,
come lift me out from the cloud
of darkness,
this less than polite percussion and put my suffering
to an end. 

Like a smoldering sun,
January services like a drum 
and though the cold keeps surging through
my veins

I am embroidered with the sweet desire to live. 

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

Posted on Sunday Mini-Challenge @ Real Toads 

& Posted on the Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

 

52 thoughts on “Late January

  1. Kim M. Russell says:

    I’m glad you set your poem in a specific time, Sana, midnight and the here and now of late January, to which we can all relate. I like the rain and the cry of the owl, which add atmosphere. The words seemingly dipped in shades of red are suggestive and I love the saucy drumming, unbending wooden hearts and polite percussion (great use of rhythm and alliteration)!

  2. Bjorn Rudberg says:

    I like how you let the darkness of night and soul end in a hope of hope in the morning… it’s good to know that daylight will come to the soul

  3. Kerry says:

    Come morning,
    come lift me out from the cloud
    of darkness,
    this less than polite percussion

    Brilliant lines in an awe-inspiring poem!

  4. Mary says:

    Ah – it is good to be a strong one at most times, but sometimes it can cause problems as well. Your poem expresses this well.

  5. Rommy says:

    Ooh, I love the imagery that comes to mind with the term “polite percussion”. It’s mechanical, passionless, it fades into the background- but you are never quite free of its monotony.

  6. Susan says:

    A night time struggle. The narrative enters and exits the danger place.
    “You see the problem with being the strong one
    is knowing
    wooden hearts will never bend.”
    Wow! I also love your use of color in this poem.

  7. Jim says:

    I’ve often wondered how the lives of wo.en who venture out were lived, their thoughts, etc. This gives me an idea. I have my order in to be a girl if I’m reincarnated. I want to look like the one in your pictureand wear not quite so much lipstick.
    Loved your poem, Sanaa.
    ..

  8. Old Egg says:

    May you always have that sweetest desire to live Sanaa despite life always haveingup and down that make us weep. I love the way you write about feelings thai way and hope you can always remain as strong as your words.

  9. Sarah Russell says:

    Midnight, late January. Can there be a more desolate time? I saw a meme on Facebook singing the 30 days hath September song and when it got to January, it said that month had 738. It does seem that way in mid-Winter, doesn’t it, even when we know that spring will eventually come.

  10. Myrna says:

    Sanaa this is truly a beautiful poem. I love the angst in the beginning, then the hope at the end. I also admire your dedication to true poetic methods, your selection of words and the imagery you invoke.

  11. Sara McNulty says:

    Some outstanding lines:

    “You see the problem with being the strong one
    is knowing
    wooden hearts will never bend.”

    “this less than polite percussion”

    Love this, Sanaa. Filled with passion!

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