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Array ( [sid] => 110353 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The Night [time] => 2005-11-25 07:27:20 [hometext] => [bodytext] => The night is black, it's said
Black as the death.
It will be the black death
But it is not it the night.

Soft, velvety, Warm
So Warm...
And the sun doesn't shine in the night
It doesn't need the shine of the sun!

It doesn't have the night the heat of the sun
No, It doesn't have
It has the light that the sun ignores
A softness calms, rested

It is the black night to the eyes
That look for the shine that flees
In the luminous night
Of gray eyes


By Fernanda F. Rocha©

[comments] => 1 [counter] => 191 [topic] => 25 [informant] => Fernanda_F_Rocha [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => MiscPoems )
The Night

Contributed by Fernanda_F_Rocha on Friday, 25th November 2005 @ 07:27:20 AM in AEST
Topic: MiscPoems



The night is black, it's said
Black as the death.
It will be the black death
But it is not it the night.

Soft, velvety, Warm
So Warm...
And the sun doesn't shine in the night
It doesn't need the shine of the sun!

It doesn't have the night the heat of the sun
No, It doesn't have
It has the light that the sun ignores
A softness calms, rested

It is the black night to the eyes
That look for the shine that flees
In the luminous night
Of gray eyes


By Fernanda F. Rocha©





Copyright © Fernanda_F_Rocha ... [ 2005-11-25 07:27:20]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: The Night (User Rating: 1 )
by enigma on Monday, 5th December 2005 @ 05:26:01 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
...I've been away for a length of time...I copied your last three poems and have waited for a time when I could respond in a manner I believe they deserve...

...after reading them briefly and hurriedly, I walked around with a melancholly feeling...a heaviness, not simple and sad...I guess I want all those I regard closely, my daughters, their husbands, my grandchildren, those whose poetry speaks to me, I guess I want their lives to be exuberent and joyful...sun always shining...

...that isn't very nice of me, really...what makes it possible for one to feel the extremes of joy is their experience with the extremes of sorrow...

...this poem awakens in me the thought that I have given this poor but faithful entity, sorrow and whatever surnames it is called by, a bum rap...an undeserved smear upon its name...

...an artist's pallet would be abysmal with only pastels...yuck...I Love the deep prussian blues and the low rumbly tones of burnt siennas and golden ochres...the vibrant colors are fun and exciting...but the deeper colors, the "night" colors, the "light" colors "that the sun ignores," they have a calming vibrancy, a "warmth," "soft" and "velvety." I owe much of my life an apology...not a wit of it deserves to be maligned...

...I just love reading your stuff...just now, glancing back, their is a mystery that is content with not being solved...like my mind will only contaminate the purity...I don't know...I Love feeling and I Love thinking...right now, December 5, 2005 at 5:32 p.m., I just feel like being...and so I am...

...thank you...

ron...enigma




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