“The Wind Is Black” by Brendan Stoneham


“The Wind Is Black”

by Brendan Stoneham

________________________

Black time moves backwards,
Underneath moon’s crystal light.

The sky looks below,
Seeing midnight’s rise and fall.

I walk out, a conscious soul.
A whisperer among the silent.

A canal is at my left,
The water is as oil,
Black and dangerous.

I see street lamps through the gossiping trees,
They make the world melt away into a swirling pool of golden dreams.

I shake myself awake,
I do not wish to fall.

At my right,
The wind walks alongside me,
I tell it my secrets, it will not tell.

I look down, into the calling abyss,
I wonder “Will it bring a hellish bliss?”

The wind stays silent,
The trees shout, incomprehensible wailing.
The moon cries a blue tear.
The caped black maiden invites me,
asks me not to turn my back,

Who will stop this confusion of cacophony?

The moon sets,
The black maiden recedes.
Sun’s white line appears.
I try and forget the abyss, the endless dark.

But the voice of her still haunts my already haunted mind,

Don’t turn your back…

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3 thoughts on ““The Wind Is Black” by Brendan Stoneham

  1. Great opening – ‘back’ and ‘black’ – covered in last line – really well rounded.
    ‘A whisperer among the silent’ evokes so much: in the world of the blind, the man with one eye is king! Or the roar the whisperer makes? This compares to the silent wind – but you point the shout – yes, it’s not the wind making a noise, but the trees. The wind is silent and black, like the horrible canal and the maiden.
    I like the way the two long lines bring you awake.
    The grammar of ‘I try and forget’ – should be ‘to’ forget – jars on me and I think would improve it anyway.
    Great subtle use of two other colours amid all the black.
    Very enjoyable poem.
    Kevin M

  2. It’s another that I need to read through several times before I really get it, but then I start to wonder who is out in the dark, and why. I wonder what terrible secrets he/she has no-one but the wind to tell, and even relate it to my own past experiences.
    I agree with Kevin about ‘I try and forget’. The sudden rhyming’ in a non-rhyming poem, of abyss and bliss, also jarred on me.
    There were some interesting metaphors/similes throughout. I love to watch what the trees and other natural (or even unnatural) objects around me are doing.

    Ruth.

  3. We dream ‘golden dreams’ to keep one step ahead of the ‘black maiden’…sometimes, she comes right up along side and show us how easy it would be to respond to the ‘calling abyss’. At such times, the ‘trees cry out’ the ‘moon sheds a blue tear’ and we turn our back on…

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