Night Town of Words
Dark shapes lose their forms as the darkness
creeps over the cobbles, torn newspapers lose
their printed heart-blood, thrown before my shiny
pointed going-out shoes.
This is not the time for a manifesto, it is the
age of uncertain quality.
The past races from me and hides in doorways,
running over curved bridges, stretching out its tongue,
as chains of light break and form.
I read my notes, pulled from a pocket of coins and crumbs.
The letters make no sense, they are night shapes.
I is my body, am is longer and weaker, unhappy starts
with a boat, a half face stretching up to the stars
or half lights, p and y slip down into the next line,
the forms all wrong, a scale with just one wrong note.
I am unhappy? Did I write this?
Leslie Philibert's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Night Town of Words by Leslie Philibert )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- In Hiding, Leigh Sena
- I wonder, hasmukh amathalal
- Nightmares Of Reality, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- I speak loud, hasmukh amathalal
- Friendship, Abekah Emmanuel
- If I fail,, hasmukh amathalal
- meet my new jabberwocky, Mandolyn ...
- The Peace of Trees, Sandra Feldman
- and back to the middle of the road lies .., RIC S. BASTASA
- aut neca aut necare, RIC S. BASTASA