Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Midnight Sonata by Rebekah Tysoe

Con Brio
Inert, the shadows fall, almost
loud enough to break
the pale silence of the street.
Rustling, light drips between
clumps of leaves, a sluggish beam
skirts lazily
that dark cliff between road
and pavement
before clipping in
jaunty moonbeam style
back to the blank black-rimmed hole of
light
at the top
of the lollypop lamp-pole

Adagio
Know the bogey-men hiding
With the growl of motor-engines in their throats
See the creep as the wind
Rattles the ancient rheumatism of the trees
And stomp their feet in the shadows
In every electric pumping heartbeat
The glisten
Sharpen their knives
And gape their mouths
Nibbling the toes that enter the darkness
And beating with withered twig fingers
On window panes
Hungry, Insatiable
Lingering long lascivious nights
Beneath the metallic glow
Of Lamplight

Rubato
And so
Malignant clouds
Snuff out the eyes of the
Night, the cold blue city heartbeat
Throbbing
In edgy jazz
Saxophone rhythm
streetlamps glitter
shadows skitter, feigning
unrest, People, half themselves, walk
alone.

Rebekah Tysoe is a second year student studying for a Bachelor of Communications at Massey University. She has previously had her work published in JAAM and she had this to say about her poem:

"This is a poem I wrote about being afraid of the dark. It's in musical terms, moving through the parts of a Sonata like a classical piece. The first Con Brio means with spirit, the next Adagio means at a walking pace, and the last Rubato means broadly. "

Midnight Sonata is published on Tuesday Poem with permission from the author.

Bernadette Keating is the editor of this week's Tuesday Poem. She is a third year Bachelor of Communications student who writes poetry and occasionally blogs about writing and art. She lives in Wellington, New Zealand.

3 comments:

WINDOWLAD said...

Enchanting indeed... liked the soft flow of this poem... i think you have a very nice space in here.

Good day.

Mary McCallum said...

Marvellous language here - this poem is intense and powerful and deliciously musical. Thank you Rebekah and Bernadette. Yay Massey, eh?

LentenStuffe said...

A fresh and invigorating voice here. I liked the tempo of the poem, its music [which should be allowed to speak for itself], the keen descriptions and the overall poetic intent. It overdoes it in places, I felt, particularly the final stanza where it veers into telling not showing. 'the ancient rheumatism of the trees' is really lovely.