Christopher Roe’s most recent poem to appear here was Once upon a primal scream, published as part of Contributor Series 11: On Birthdays in July 2012.
Isn’t That What the Night Is For?
By Christopher Roe
Collected thoughts in a thick, red book
the rhythm of my life written down
hoping it has some significance,
some importance, to someone
and so I write in the cold light
of a single naked bulb and weep.
Isn’t that what the night is for?
I drive through the cold, dark rain
to an old village library and a gathering
of fellow poets there to share
excerpts from our lives: good lives,
bad lives, and lives not yet lived
to purge our demons and weep.
Isn’t that what the night is for?
I walk to a favorite restaurant
with my muse who is also my lover,
(so much to ask of a friend).
We talk and laugh and walk slowly
through the gathering night to make love
on cool sheets she gave me.
Isn’t that what the night is for?
In each other’s arms contented
exchanging sighs, and kisses
speaking with lips and fingertips
because words can get in the way
and then we part to sleep our
separate dreams and maybe weep.
Isn’t that what the night is for?
I lay in the moonlight that bleeds
its tears upon my empty bed
and I dream I’m a dreamer–dreaming
in the distance I hear a cough, a laugh
and I fold them into my dreams
and join the moon in weeping.
Isn’t that what the night is for?
The night is for dreamers and lovers
and those who wear the poet’s mask.
It’s for sleepers and weepers
and keepers of life’s great truths
but we share the night with death
whose emptiness we contemplate.
That is what the night is for.
I love the sequence; everything about this poem except the grammatical error that shatters the rhythm and the images for me: “lay” should be “lie!” I know the current fashion is to say this wrong, but it drives me crazy. Please change that word in such a great poem?
Very powerful indeed. Lots to think about.
Thank you for your comments. When I include this poem in a book I will make that change. Thanks again.