November 3rd, on the eve of his execution

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I count
droplets as white noise
upon my nerves,
a breath alone
measures false sense of security
and emptiness
of a desecrated black sky.
hope is hiding
where the naked eye can’t possibly reach.
as though an elixir promising youth
is a dark dance
of an insatiable body, soul, heart
and mind.


Photo credits: Bizarre pictures show 19th century

Posted for ‘Camera Flash 55’ @ Real Toads 

also on the Poetry Pantry @ Poets United


52 Replies to “November 3rd, on the eve of his execution”

  1. Woohoo! This is fabulous, Sanaa! Your title just blew me away for a start and the content of the poem itself is so finely-tuned to the moment. Brilliant.

    Thank you!

  2. Oh, this is chilling, Sanaa. I like the idea of hope hiding where the eye can’t reach. I am sure it must be out there somewhere!

  3. Those lines of hope hiding where the naked eye can’t reach just kill me. Brilliant poem, with amazing solid imagery.

  4. I wonder how to imagine the night before an execution.. I agree with Kerry, the title in itself is wonderful..

  5. Before taking the poem into consideration as a whole, I have to say, I love the first line on its own. You DO count. I just want to sit with that truth for a minute, letting that message be everything.

    Also, in the title, I very much enjoy imagining Eve to be a name.

    This whole piece is powerful, creepy, and haunting. It could be interpreted in so many ways, which I love. Revenge. Fear. Truly a man about to be executed. Ex-ecuted. As in, broken up with.

    The part about staying young makes me think of the blood queen, or whatever she’s called — the one who killed people for their blood, rubbing it on her skin believing it kept her looking young. The man about to be executed could be “donating” his blood to the cause.

  6. “An elixir promising youth” Please let me know where I can buy some Sanaa! However back to your words. I love the depth of this poem in the narrators search for that elixir. Perhaps we all should be like that never giving up on our goals.

  7. The title whetted my appetite and your poem satisfied it, Sanaa! You’ve created a tense feeling with the opening lines, with white noise hammering nerves, and I love the idea of hope hiding where the naked eye can’t possibly reach.

  8. Nice write Sanaa. My favourite lines
    “hope is hiding
    where the naked eye can’t possibly reach.”
    Thanks for dropping by my sumie Sunday today


  9. the whole poem focuses the mind on the final moments – so well contrived and conceived and quite a change from your usual motifs but so well executed!!!
    p.s. maybe the toothache has honed the nerve tingling sensations of this poem – hope it gets better soon – nothing like teeth for agony

    1. Thank you so much, Laura 😀 so glad you liked it ❤️

      PS: The toothache began Sunday morning.. hopefully it will subside soon.

  10. “Delirium 
    as though an elixir promising youth 
    is a dark dance 
    of an insatiable body, soul, heart 
    and mind”…

    Gorgeously worded, Sanaa! 💙

  11. This is dark and chilling! The image of the desecrated black sky reminds me of a quote by Burroughs and it goes like this: ‘Nobody owns life, but anyone who can pick up a frying pan owns death.’

    1. Absolutely! 😉 And since we were required to write inspired by the picture there was nowhere to go but dark! Thanks for stopping by, Michael ❤️

  12. The title filled me with a foreboding dread, and the content expanded upon it. I felt like I was in the gallows awaiting my last walk.

    hope is hiding
    where the naked eye can’t possibly reach.”

    One can only hope. Exceptional work.

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