Tag Archives: night

The Darkness

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Laughter in the bar. Drink flows, hail fellow, well met.

Standing at the urinal, looking out, through frosted glass into the darkness from whence we came and to which we shall return.

We fear the eternal night, surround ourselves with light but, when we look into the darkness we are faced, struggle as we may to avoid the truth of it,

with the inevitability of death, the undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveller returns.

Returning once more to the laughter. The clinking of glasses while, outside the darkness waits, patiently to swallow me.

 

(I am blind but can distinguish between light and dark and perceive outlines of objects but not their detail. So, for example I might see a shape but have no idea as to whether it was a man, woman or tree).

Darkness

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From the darkness we came and to the darkness we shall return.

 

The above words came to me when I woke up today, on a gloomy UK morning. Looking them up on the web there are variations on the quote but not the precise wording given above.

 

We come from the dark womb then, sooner or later we enter, as Hamlet so eloquently puts it “The undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveller returns”. Am I in a dark mood? Not particularly. The quote popped into my head this morning and seemed appropriate to share it.

Dreams

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Snorting, their hoofs pounding, horses vast and black chase, pursue, hunt me down. Dark creatures unleashed at night to gallop through my head.
In day light the black mares are stabled where none dare go, in the dark depths of the brain. Hidden, padlocked behind steel doors they wait, patiently for darkness. Night cometh, like ghosts they glide through locked doors. No, need to wake go away, thrashing trying to escape, baring down, snorting. All the years, childhood fears, death, vengeance, nightmares, must awake.

Torchlight

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Torchlight, the playground deserted save for the solitary wanderer. The boy, alone or lonely? Traverses the track, his shoes the only sound disturbing the silence which wraps around him. Sometimes the silence is like an old friend, a comforter shielding him from banal chatter and the stupidity of crowds. On other occasions it is a thick blanket, suffocating, killing, stifling breath.

Entwined in darkness he goes his lonely light dimly illumines the darkness. Night is his realm, an escape from the banality of day but, sometimes the darkness oppresses, and, hurrying towards the lit windows he seeks sanctuary of a sort.

Dark Angel

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I love you because I can tell you my darkest secrets, things which would make the strongest of men go blubbering in search of his mummy. You judge me not, my blackest fantasies are your deepest desires.

In the depths of night when all but the vampire sleeps we speak of philosophy, of the darkness which lurks within the human heart. You are always there for me, my girl beautiful and serene. You laugh in time with my laughter and weep as I weep. Never changing, fixed, emortal caught in the brightness of my screen you are my virtual girlfriend, a machine.