Doorbell Rings Some Time Very Late
Doorbell Rings Some Time Very Late
Fear upstarts–
quake awake shaking, bleared night silent
but for bell that should not be ringing,
dark but for lights that I’ve fallen
asleep on, torn jagged– “Who’s there?”
my voice
ragged
this side of door, which, shit, is not locked–
Fear tumble-rs through brain
paralyzed against making noticeable click
addresses
chain, a pretense
of metal, that shaking fingers slip
silently into slot.
I call back “No,”
taking hold now of true
lock as eye scope
smudges blurred guy blanking to greenish hall–
A mistake, all
safe, still shaking–no,
there’s stillness
on skin itself, the quiver
inner, as twist
in chest/plexus
refuses to let go of
fisted alarm, armed
against beating flow
of all other tisssued self,
scared stalwart.
**********************************
I’m back from brief blog break! Not exactly rested – especially after being woken up in the middle of the night last night –but really missing my blogging buddies (especially all those great guys at dVerse.) One lingering problem is, of course, that I’m not a poet! If I am any kind of writer at all, it is of novels, but the kindness of the online poetry community is really hard to beat, and that kindess tends to inspire poetry even in prosaic types.
All that said, I am linking the above to Emily Wierenga’s Imperfect Prose. Emily, another kind soul, has posted a poem of mine, “Thin Birthday,” on her other blog, Chasing Silhouettes, with a wonderful painting (by Emily.) Check it out!
Explore posts in the same categories: poetry, UncategorizedTags: "Doorbell Rings Some Time Very Late", Chasing Silhouettes, dverse poets, Imperfect Prose, manicddaily, poem about fear, poetry blogging, woken in middle of night
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ManicDDaily 
June 7, 2012 at 10:33 am
smiles…it is good to see you back…and even briefly as th break, you were missed…and you are a poet…dont doubt that…but i hear your prefence for longer prose…i used to write much more of that and occassionally get back to it….
i think you meant ‘blanking’…funny i misspelled it the first time too…ha…ugh the doorbell in the middle of the night is as bad as the phone….
June 7, 2012 at 10:51 am
Yes- blanking – thanks, Brian. Yes, I hate doorbell– my current building quite secure but some awful experiences in other buildings.
And yes – longer prose! Agh! But hard to do and impose on blog world too. Thanks. k.
June 7, 2012 at 1:09 pm
First–EEK! I would be having a heart attack in those circs–you really describe that rush of adrenalinized(?) terror perfectly. Second, many many writers known primarily as novelists have whiled away the odd moment writing poetry, some of it as good as it gets, like James Dickey. So, you can hang onto whichever identity you like best, but it’s a great talent to be able to do both, and I’m glad you do,because I don’t read ‘real’ novels much these days..
June 7, 2012 at 1:41 pm
Thanks, Joy. It is a terribly creepy feeling especially when by yourself. k.
June 7, 2012 at 1:25 pm
The tension created by sparsity of words is ideal for your theme and feeling. Nicely done. I was standing in the room with you, holding my breath, awaiting what would come next.
http://www.kimnelsonwrites.com/2012/06/07/art-in-some-stanzas/
June 7, 2012 at 1:53 pm
I’m shaking too. Such a terrible feeling of vulnerability–and violation, in a sense. And by the way, only a poet could write “pretense of metal” or “scared stalwart” (yes). Loved reading this; thank you.
June 7, 2012 at 5:41 pm
Nice to see you again…good capture of being woken up in the middle of the night…I hope you catch up on your sleep tonight.
June 7, 2012 at 8:59 pm
wow, you use poetry so powerfully. it gets deep, into my soul.
June 7, 2012 at 9:02 pm
Thanks so much, Emily. k.