Here is still

Even when the light is casting shadows
from my clocks and bedroom jewellery.

Here is still.
Now so late at night –
the morning shift has even started stirring.

Here is still.
Where the ceiling screens my eyes most rapturous thrills
and thrilling visions.

Here is still.
As these bombasted ears
pick each and every monster
to fit with every sound.

Here is still.
To be broken by all creaks
and coughs
and squeaks,
as all my world is stolen.

Here is still.
So still the shiny slide of slugs
attracts my senses.

Here is still.
And here lies my head,
furious with commotion
in the stillness of the night.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s