Learn More

John Courtney

Rookie (05-22-1982 / Philadelphia)


When the wild-beating heart wakes me
and I gasp for air in the middle of the night
having visited a dead friend, I lie there
sometimes for twenty or thirty minutes feeling
the cold touch of a raven's lips blowing hair
gently across my face. I come into the still presence
of light from a buzzing lamp post and think
about the weakness of the freshly-dead stars,
I take a swig of something wet and turn it
around at the corners of my mouth. I swallow and
lie back down in a similar body pulling the
curtains on my eyes, I lie there for another
twenty or thirty minutes and wonder where
the raven went, apologizing to the stars,
my friends who patiently wait to feed again.

Submitted: Tuesday, May 07, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, May 08, 2013
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Brunette by John Courtney )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Trending Poets

Trending Poems

  1. Daffodils, William Wordsworth
  2. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
  4. Love, Sarah Flower Adams
  5. A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe
  6. A Character, William Wordsworth
  7. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
  8. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  9. Don't Go Far Off, Pablo Neruda
  10. Bluebird, Charles Bukowski

Poem of the Day

poet Sarah Flower Adams

O Love! thou makest all things even
In earth or heaven;
Finding thy way through prison-bars
Up to the stars;
Or, true to the Almighty plan,
That out of dust created man,
...... Read complete »

[Hata Bildir]