chrisnelson61

~ Poetry, stories and some random words…

chrisnelson61

Tag Archives: night

Untitled

15 Saturday Aug 2020

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

creative, Darkness, Depression, Lost, night, poems, poetry, Untitled, verse, writing

Born into the night

Sharp-suited, black

Against the shadows,

Felt your footsteps

Cold and soundless

Tracking,

Each placed deep within my own,

Your breath,

Chill upon my neck

As your words swirled,

Like birds lost in the warmth

Of early winter,

Around my head,

My back sheltered by 

The uneasiness of your coat

Wrapped about my shoulders,

Felt your hands eat

Into my formaldehyde mind,

Sowing the seeds for a harvest

Misted by candle-wick days

Which devoured the light

And led the Sun to its

Uneasy bed,

Born into the night

Cut from the promise of light,

Against the shadows

I felt your footsteps.

 

An older poem that has appeared before but vanished!

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2020

 

 

Lead You Home

23 Saturday May 2020

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 21 Comments

Tags

creative, dreams, Lead You Home, night, poems, poetry, verse, writing

And the octopus-arm streets

Lead me here

And lead me there

But never take me far

From this town

Whose sea-serpent limbs wrap

Themselves about ankles

Both delicate and firm

Their resolve never broken

Never blessed by the birds

Who swoop the deep

And trail their angel-feather wings

Across the water

Across the lives

Kissing the gentle waves

As they lap the shore

Like the ghost-friend visit

Of dreams

Now remembered

Now lost

And on the horizon

Ever distant

Receding like the thawing summer floes

Forgotten swallows swirl

Singing softly to ears that

Will never hear

Never feel their warmth again

Drawn ever back

Through lattice-laced skies

The tentacled paths that burn

But only in the light

And lead you home at night

At night

 

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2020

 

Night Bus

13 Saturday Jul 2019

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Bus, death, fiction, Flas fiction, flash, loss, Love, night, short stories, story, thoughts, writing

I sat on the bus, watching the night-lit streets as they passed by like frozen, shrouded memories. The juddering, stop-start motion seemed to bring an uneasy comfort to my body, detached as it was from my consciousness. Other vehicles, heading in the opposite direction, appeared and then disappeared as if they were on some mythic quest, their headlights dull and dim below my position on the top deck of the bus, illuminating nothing but the first few steps on a journey without end. For a moment it seemed as if only they knew the direction in which to move in order to find some salvation, some respite from the pain, and yet I knew, contained within each metal box, was nothing more than one more lonely figure hoping beyond all hope that something, some miracle, would appear to snap them out of their coma.

Buildings rose up on either side of me now; giant monoliths, some pale and dark, devoid of life, tired and waiting for release, others still humming under the electric glow which gave them purpose. Their eyes stared out without seeing through the dark, and were gone again, lost to me as I moved steadily on. Their facades hung momentarily in my mind like all the faces of people I had met in my life, before fading into a sea of ashen memories. The night around me seemed to tighten its grip as, like an abandoned vessel, we sailed on.

To both the right and to the left of me roads sprouted off from the main artery down which I was travelling. They sparkled and twinkled with the hope of the newborn before even their lights were swallowed by the darkness into which, it seemed, the whole world had fallen. I shuddered as the bus lurched around a corner: not from the cold – I had long since become immune to that – but from the impending realisation that we were, at last, nearing my stop, my final destination.

And then everything was quiet, but for the pounding in my chest and the pulsing in my head. What if I were to remain on the bus? Would it eject me when it reached its destination, its point of termination, or would it show a glimmer of empathy, offer up a hand and cradle me to its heart? After all, my brain reminded me, what point was there to alighting, to leaving the bus to continue without me, if you were no longer there to welcome me home?

 

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2019

 

Moon Eye Shark

18 Thursday Aug 2016

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

clouds, eye, imagination, moon, nature, night, Photograph, photography, shark, sky

Not what I would usually post, but this caught my eye whilst dog walking.

20160817_230401

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Some of the fantastic blogs I Follow

  • The Vision of Poets
  • HARLEY HOLLAND
  • Artemis and the Moon
  • Grumpy's Gifts (poetry corner)
  • Blueprint of a Storm
  • In mind and out
  • Daydreaming as a profession
  • Treacle Heart
  • Raw Earth Ink
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  • WordMusing
  • Stories From the Edge of Blindness
  • Incarcerated shadows
  • herschelmann fotoblog, bestpixel-photowerkstatt-hamburg.de
  • Objects, and the Distance Between Them
  • Zoolon Audio
  • A Blind Bird
  • EWIAN
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  • TheFeatheredSleep
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  • cakeordeathsite
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  • scottishmomus
  • Spartan Eye
  • Inkposts
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The Vision of Poets

The Poetic Stories of Michael33

HARLEY HOLLAND

Artemis and the Moon

short stories about life

Grumpy's Gifts (poetry corner)

a space cleared for sharing words well worth their share.

Blueprint of a Storm

writer — poet — word and reality rearrange(r)

In mind and out

Read my mind

Daydreaming as a profession

Daydreaming and then, maybe, writing a poem about it. And that's my life.

Treacle Heart

poetry & prose by HLR

Raw Earth Ink

spit, mixed with dirt - muddy words flow

Musings

What comes to me as a still, small voice in the atmosphere of daylight and evening. © Mario Savioni and Musings, 2013. Unauthorized use or duplication of this material without the consent of the author is prohibited. Small (100 words or less) excerpts or links are permitted as long as credit is given to Mario Savioni with direction to the original content. Please refrain from “reblogging” posts.

WordMusing

...a world of poetry and spokenword

Stories From the Edge of Blindness

In 2002, Retinitis Pigmentosa changed my life. This is my story of a slow approach to darkness.

Incarcerated shadows

"Something wicked this way comes"

herschelmann fotoblog, bestpixel-photowerkstatt-hamburg.de

einige mehr oder weniger tolle Ideen um die Fotografie und die Bildbearbeitung

Objects, and the Distance Between Them

Dreams, thoughts, and experiences expressed through poetry and prose

Zoolon Audio

Guitarist / Songwriter / Blogger

A Blind Bird

There's no sky, just stars.

EWIAN

Independent audiovideo artist

theherdlesswitch

If you search for the light, you will find it.

TheFeatheredSleep

Tigers not daughters

VIEW FROM OUR SOFA

The Years of Watching Avidly

The Brokedown Pamphlet

war some of the time

cakeordeathsite

What would you choose?

Havoc and Consequence

(overcome your fears)

I am Lovely and Lonely and I Belong Deeply To Myself

May You Touch Dragonflies and Stars - Dance With Fairies and Talk to the Moon

As it Comes

A New Era

countingducks

reflections on a passing life

Poet Girl Em

Heartspeak

mindfoxblog

Poems from life

stu ART photo

Urban Minimal, Urban Abstract, and Urbanscapes by Stuart Allen

hijacked amygdala

unbolt me

the literary asylum

Weave a Web

Stories, poems, music, thoughts...

jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Grandpa's Way

Muse Writer

harmonious volcabulary to substitute for the cacophony of life

THE BROKEDOWN COMIC

KINDA RAMSHACKLE

Alex Raphael

Entertainment, travel and lifestyle blog

Changing Skin and other stories

Creative Writing and unfinished business...

johnpoetflanagan

Wordifull

...poetry, stories & rants.

scottishmomus

What I See

Spartan Eye

Picturing the bleak

Inkposts

A space for enjoying writing

The Grammar of Matter

Reflections on art, magic and everyday life

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