Mesonoxian Daydreams

by Xanthe   Aug 11, 2012


I sit on the edge of my bed as though it is I,
who was trespassing, rather than the
waning crepuscular light seeping through
my begrimed window.

-----

Just down the street, at this hour of the day,
there is a man in my neighborhood who
lives alone under an eburnean roof,
pacing back and forth - waiting, waiting.

He smears his lips with poetry and prays
with unborn words on his wrists just to be

heard.

As twilight's fingertips stroke the Earth's
rosy hemispheres, he quaffs down the
last drop of courage from his coffee cup
and with sweaty palms, he twists the
door knob; leaving printless feet on the
threshold.

The bell rang.
She was just about to close the door
after a long day of work. He walks in.
She recognizes him.

She watched tiredly as he trudged down
the aisle and picks the same can he chose
the day before. And the day before that.

He pays for it; she thanks him, asks him
to come again soon. But he never notices
how passive she speaks, nor does she
notice his smile as he walks out the door.

-----

The night cloaks my senses.

-----

Today, I saw a man crossing the street
toward the grocery store by the corner.
I didn't hesitate to greet him a good
evening.

He smiled.

08/10/12
*Experimenting. Not good, I know.

5


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Latest Comments

  • 5 years ago

    by Darren

    Xanthe this is awesome.
    You show huge compassion for somebody else in this piece. You have noticed a small detail in somebody elses life rather than your own. Shows you have a very caring side.
    Some of the descriptive text is fantastic
    I like how you tell the story and are obviously very talented.
    Not only I am adding you to my favourite authors, I am using my second vote for this, purely for the depth in this piece.
    Awesome job
    Dont delete it!!!!!!!!!!!!

  • 5 years ago

    by Meme

    "Experimenting. Not good, I know"
    Uhmmm, excuse me but are we reading the samething here?? LOL, what do you mean not good huh?? If what I think is AMAAAAZING you see is not good, then what would I make of what you think is actually good?? I think you would kill me then, hehe

    Ohhhhh I love it, so much love it.. The format you adopted in this piece is really great. The pauses you had all through the poem just gave it an extra touch.

    Never doubt you writings hun, and keep it up ;)

  • 5 years ago

    by Hannah Lizette

    Dear God, I'll be back to write a lovely comment for this unbelievably amazing piece!

  • 5 years ago

    by Axelle

    Xanthe...I have read in a comment above mine that you were thinking about deleting this? Seriously? Come on...no way are you deleting this :P If you delete this, I will hunt you down and force you to put it back up >:) (this is an evil face, so beware...). If I was still on my old account, I would've nominated this, but I can't since I don't have nominator status anymore!!! This sucks by the way :(

    I have also read your profile, and I am pretty sure that this is a poem about the same man. It is heartbreaking to read such a thing like this, because I can't do a thing about it. It also reminds me of myself when I have gotten extremely depressed.

    'I sit on the edge of my bed as though it is I,
    who was trespassing, rather than the
    waning crepuscular light seeping through
    my begrimed window.'

    ^ 'Crepuscular' and 'begrimed.' Very sophisticated words, especially the first. I have never heard of any of them before, so of course I had to look them up. I have to say though that they might be a little too sophisticated? At least for me...they kind of took away from the poem (for me) for some reason, but that might be because my brain is a simple minded one :) I love simple. However, one always benefits from learning new words :)

    'Just down the street, at this hour of the day,
    there is a man in my neighborhood who
    lives alone under an eburnean roof,
    pacing back and forth - waiting, waiting.

    He smears his lips with poetry and prays
    with unborn words on his wrists just to be

    heard.'

    ^ Beautiful imagery here. I can just imagine this man doing that...walking back and forth while reading poetry, and maybe trying to write a poem? 'Smears his lips'...lot of things can be derived from that sentence, but maybe I am looking too far into it?
    I like how you put 'heard' alone here. It is such a simple action that anyone can do, but sadly most of us do not do so because we have other things on our minds. Because of this, some people take extreme measures just to be noticed...it is awful at times. Suicide, cutting, acting out in anger, etc. All are ways to gain attention, and be heard.

    'As twilight's fingertips stroke the Earth's
    rosy hemispheres, he quaffs down the
    last drop of courage from his coffee cup
    and with sweaty palms, he twists the
    door knob; leaving printless feet on the
    threshold.'

    ^ The word that probably got to me the most here was 'printless.' You keep on enforcing the thought that people think that this man doesn't matter, or that he is nonexistent. Printless means not making any impression, right? Or basically that...I tell you, it is heartbreaking.

    'He pays for it; she thanks him, asks him
    to come again soon. But he never notices
    how passive she speaks, nor does she
    notice his smile as he walks out the door.'

    ^ If this is true, I have to disagree with the 'But he never notices how passive she speaks' part. I have a feeling that he does, but he is so starved for a connection with someone, that he doesn't really care. My heart just cracked. This also evokes some anger within me as well, because I can only imagine what it feels like to be him at this moment. I wish you would have somehow mentioned what the age is of the man...young/old. Depending on the age, it might have made the reader more sympathetic.

    Today, I saw a man crossing the street
    toward the grocery store by the corner.
    I didn't hesitate to greet him a good
    evening.

    ^ Beautiful ending. An uplifting one, I must say :) Unfortunately, I have to admit that I would probably be one of those people who do not say anything. Not because I don't want to, but because I am awfully shy :( it is sad. If I had the guts, I would say 'good evening' or a 'hello' to everyone I see, but I don't. Pathetic, isn't it?

    Like I said, if I had the nominator status, I would have nominated this one. However, I was quite stupid :( How dare you say this was a bad poem! You have about what...at least 6 people who say it isn't and more to come too! Don't ever tell me that your poetry is bad, because it makes me angry that you think so. I am still jealous of your work, I must say :P

    I am glad that you wrote this, because it tells a story about a lonely man. If this is true (I never know when it is) then you are making it so that people can 'hear' him :] Well done. I love this.

    Excellent
    5/5

    ~S

  • 5 years ago

    by LittleMermaid

    Sweet one Xanthe! and really very good..as always are your poems!!!
    *_*