The dark room

The dark room
bits of sweat
dripping from
my exposed

The silent breath
in and out
passing time
my metronome

The pitter pat
of three moths
bouncing against
boxed home

The fever watched
shadows move dark
suffering concussed
they bounced
repeating thrusts
into four-squared
walls without end

The delirious chuckle
of vacant observation
insanity, again
and again

The three moths
my recycled thoughts
all becoming
the same

The forced allegory
medicated to watch
until point
made within

Contributed to Open Link Night with dVerse Poets Pub....inspired by a recent fever in time.


15 thoughts on “The dark room”

  1. I’ve been in that box and felt like the moths, where no part of me can interpret a creative thought. I liked the voice of this. The observation. The statement. Very nice.

  2. The silent breath
    in and out
    passing time
    my metronome

    There is a sense of presence in this piece–actually in all of your work–of being fully present–Lovely write!

  3. this is really well constructed rose…each stanza building…but my fav is those last two stanzas…the thought moths….bouncing around 4 endless walls…nice…

  4. hey C – i really felt those bounces – your structure always enhances your content and this is a poit in case – the three moths has a cracking image attatched – it all habgs in a dynamically energetic
    place which makes the reading experience pretty darn cool 😀 of course… i’m a dark room kinda guy too 😀

  5. Sometimes a single, fleeting moment can be everything to the poet…as you yourself have proven quite efficiently, Rose. Feverish, to be sure.

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