Night Poetry - Blog Posts

i am an artist

although, i haven't created anything in a few years.

i'm an artist, and yet, the only thing i do (CAN do) is pitifully observe

i am an observer, then.

i suppose it's hard to see myself as anything else, considering my singular hobby is perceiving stories.

i read, i watch, i play; i hear stories around me constantly. everything from the niche post to the highest grossing video game, or the strangers on the street to my family-- they all have a story i've seen. one that means something.

funny thing though, i can't read between the lines to save my life. as much as i observe and think about these things on a daily basis-

I never fully understand what it is that i see

maybe its a difference in interpretation between myself and my peers that makes me feel this way (i've always been a part of the crowd)

i'll dont think ill ever know why i don't get it. i cant understand anything, i've lived alone for too long. even before i was alone, i never understood them. I was too awkward. Too forward.

i dont think i'll care enough to know, though. it doesn't really matter to me. nothing ever does in the end.

maybe thats why i dont understand.

febuary 3, 2024 — night time is a past-time

darling, the moon and stars know your name

every night i sing about it with shame

and every sonnet i write is the same

will you ever forgive me again?

in the dark of night, these terrors lie

creepies that crawl and bats that fly

something i can't face, in the clouds i'm still high

'cause my greatest fear is saying goodbye

but i used to bike in this neighbourhood of mine

lately all that's passed the streets is time

so it goes and the churchbells chime

i'll have to accept i'm out your light of lime

moon's not out tonight, maybe i'll be fine

maybe this time i won't dream you're mine

moon's not out tonight, maybe i'll be fine

maybe this time i won't dream you're mine

- reddestofscarves, 10:07pm

Oppressed minds concentrate,

Trying to see through the hate,

At all fronts we stand still,

We’re taught that words cannot kill.

They stab our back and strike our face,

But the bruises left had no physical trace.

Feelings forced down deep within,

This time we might just give in-

Road stained green,

Wind carries rain’s eager drops,

Illuminated by a passing car’s main beam.

Road stained amber,

Rain hits my locks yet I hide under bus stops,

My heart grows ever damper

Road stained red,

Ceaseless rain hitting all with its cold drops,

I ask myself again, “Why did I get out of bed?”

His shadow leaves

A window ceases to see

Natures Solitude

I implore the great old oak, she who holds knowledge; she who holds power.

I implore the great old oak, forgive me; forgive us.

I implore the graceful cherry blossom tree, he who vigils life as death; he who makes the violence art.

I implore the graceful cherry blossom, stay with me; do not fleet from us as life does

I implore the soon barren earth, hold my hand; guide us to our fate

I implore the soon barren earth, she who mothers; she who guides

I implore the blinding sun and silent moon, they who shine; they who lead time

I implore the blinding sun and silent moon, do not stop the chime; judge us all for our greatest crime.

I implore she who holds power, he who makes art, she who mothers, they who shine.

Please forgive and be confined.

Please guide and flow time.

Falling Star

Why has everyone deserted the night

I ponder as I walk in the beauty of her starlight

Falling for the embrace of her moonlight

As I rejoice in the song of midnight

Starry eyed as the shimmering stars align

Our fates intertwined in twinkling twilight divine

Festering words left unsaid in the dying moonshine

A great love only broken by the emerging sunshine

Why has everyone abandoned the night

I question as her stars began to ignite

Dancing under the starry spotlight

Forever falling like a star in flight

Moon drunk stumbling as the stars fall out of line

My full heart falling as the moon begins to resign

Now tiredly waiting for the shining stars to realign

For dawn can only temporarily separate starline

Missing Midnight

Why couldn’t I live any longer in the blue light

Drinking it up like a lycanthrope at midnight

Now an owl among the eagles in the harsh sunlight

Wishing for cover for my burning plight

Half lidded eyes forced to endure the yellow hue

Begging for the return of the midnight blue

To burst into a fleeting flight feeling anew

Akin to a bat chirping happily as they flew

Why couldn’t I live under the shining moon

Dancing in it like a vampire humming a heartless tune

Forever an owl among the eagles in the hot afternoon

Desiring to be a silken moth in a comfy cocoon

I shall endure the seething glare of the sun

Never giving them the joy of becoming undone

For I absolutely refuse to get up and run

Even if the eagles love to make fun

Flight of a Night Owl

Racing into the night

Running away from the light

Hiding from the loud daylight

As I wait for the approaching twilight

I look for the silver moon

As I listen for the tune

Of the ending afternoon

Racing into the night

The stars begin to ignite

As the silver moon reaches its height

I stretch my wings to finally take flight

I’ll trace all the constellations as I fly

Until I hear the morning sigh

Of the sun about to approach the sky