Five A.M.

my own death
vineyards of moons,
a shallow depth
of the sea,

Venus sinks,
I drowned and cried
in my sleep,

died like the ocean,
born in split
minds,
like the magenta
of mother’s womb;

a vortex of nothing
fair and bony
for the ghost
of mine does not grieve

these amputations of mind;
absence of the moon’s bare-
bones,

I see the lizard limbs
of the moonrise

as I weep
like the island.

© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.


Written for the Free Verse Revolution prompt: lamplight terrors.

As well posted for the dVerse open link night.

Appeared in Top Three Sunday Best on FVR.




Categories: Prose

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

47 replies

  1. Oh my! I had shivers reading this! Those last two stanzas are incredibly visceral!

    Liked by 3 people

  2. What a talent you have! Thank you for sharing this wonderful creation with us 💓

    Liked by 1 person

  3. There is such melancholy and loneliness here in your existential poem, Lucy. My heart goes out to this person.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Beautifully penned Lucy and very poignant for these times, I felt it could relate to Mother Earth too 💚

    Liked by 2 people

  5. You are great at arresting images – vineyards of moons, lizard limbs of the moonrise. A fever dream.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Aww, thank you Sarah. I am glad you think that. I honestly was a bit doubtful with this poem! But, I’m so glad that it’s being received well. I thank you for your kindness and thoughts. ❤

      Like

  6. ‘the lizard limbs/of the moonrise’ – wonderful!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. “like the magenta
    of mother’s womb;

    a vortex of nothing
    fair and bony
    for the ghost
    of mine does not grieve”

    Wow! Just wow. I FELT that.

    Liked by 2 people

  8. a mournful nightmare, touching and resonating with the contortion of emotions in our current pandemic … think you articulated many peoples angst ..

    Liked by 2 people

  9. Your loneliness cries in torment throughout your poeml
    I love these lines…

    for the ghost
    of mine does not grieve

    these amputations of mind;
    absence of the moon’s bare-
    bones,

    Liked by 2 people

  10. ‘…amputations of mind…’ Yum.
    The whole thing…Yum

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Your images are vividly surreal, and the 3rd stanza is exquisitely poetic, and throwing my thoughs into an ocean of turmoil
    “died like the ocean,
    born in split
    minds,
    like the magenta
    of mother’s womb;”

    Liked by 1 person

  12. You always have a way with words. Incredible work, Lucy! 🌹

    Liked by 1 person

  13. I so relate to this poem, Lucy, as someone who wakes up several times a night, usually at three and five a.m. The imagery is beautiful and twilit, with the ‘vineyards of moons’, the ‘shallow depth of the sea’ and the ‘magenta of mother’s womb’. I particularly love the idea of the ocean being ‘born in split minds’ and the ‘lizard limbs of the moonrise’, the effect of the moon on humans and reptiles, perhaps a reference to our reptilian brain.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. Your view of death is both colorful and dramatic. I feel for your sense of isolation. I hope it dissipates with the day.

    I wouldn’t mind being surrounded by moons myself. (K)

    Liked by 1 person

  15. Lucy,
    I really adore this line,
    “these amputations of mind;”
    Thanks for your poem.

    Liked by 1 person

  16. Such sad, nightmare visions–but so vivd and surreal. (I suppose just like a nightmare!). 😏

    Liked by 1 person

  17. This is marvelous. Gave me goosebumps and I feel the depth to the core of my soul. That’s the power of your words and thoughts.

    Liked by 1 person

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  1. Sunday Best: lamplight terrors – FREE VERSE REVOLUTION

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