Secret Slumber
Poem
May sound keep us alive in a night prevailing with forethought
In a sliver of an outcome
Where all things determined by a thread of hope
For causeway knows none
Poor crease on a shoulder from sleeping in the rough
No tears of shame
None to drink the skies by
Only silver threads to reach golden dreams
Men that turn tables on themselves
Pitch the roof for forefront of their own marbles
That circle only egos
To which throw cans at
But bow anyway
Even lucifer had his day
And for now creatures toil in rubble
Suit yourself Suit
Matador my friend be not the person cramped, be aware
No mission ever sauntered a street alone
Where possible the conduct is only the feather
In secret slumber
*
This poem is about laying down to sleep listening to the music and the rain and thinking ahead and wondering about a man, and men who made mistakes and then try for understanding. Who is evil, who is a hero, then, does it matter because I am going to sleep anyway.
Copyright © 2023 Lisa A Lachapelle. All rights reserved.
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About the Creator
Canuck Scriber L.Lachapelle Author
Published Poet and Author. Making rainy days feel like Sundays with words.
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Comments (9)
Yep. What Randy said. Read a few times. Think I got it. Men turning tables on themselves in particular. Reading it again. Wow, this is deep. So many meanings. Very interesting read.
Extremely intriguing and beautifully written. I was kind of in a trance reading lost in your words rather than meaning … ‘Where all things determined by a thread of hope …’ I have reread a few times. Not trying to conceive your implied meaning but to find my own. If that makes sense? I was very thankful to read Randy’s comment and then your detailed reply. Deconstructing your intentions. Thorough enjoyed!! Pauline 🌸
Oh, I adore this. Gorgeous language and beautiful pacing. Everything felt deliberate in this poem. I was absolutely transported. 💓
Interesting poem, Lisa! I feel that it could be the foreword to a novel...
This is beautiful, Lisa. Well done.
As always, your poems are so deep and beautifully written!
I like how you used the feather, to describe a peaceful slumber
I'm feeling really dense right now, as just when I think I'm catching the drift of where you're going you change directions on me. Okay, full disclosure, you change directions long before I even begin to catch your drift. Maybe it's the hour. But can you give me a clue? Your flow of language with continuous unexpected turns of phrase reminds me of a hymn I once wrote for a class on the Holy Spirit in seminary. In every moment of the piece I made sure that there were either passing or neighboring tones so that there could never be a moment of rest where continuing movement was no longer required until the very end, emulating our professor's description of the Holy Spirit. His wife played piano. She told him it was unplayable. Your poem does not strike me as unreadable, I don't want you to hear what I'm saying in that way. The language & cadences you use, along with those unexpected turns of phrase are both mesmerizing & jarring, creating an astonishing effect even if the words carry no further meaning. But I'd still love to know what it's about, lol!
Very well done. 🤎