Oh very nice. I love that :)

Mozette wrote: " The Late Night Stretch

Heavy velveteen drapes
frame the waning moon tonight
as traffic echoes
in the distance;
so fa..."


I see that everybody left something, some trace of their touch and footprints on this site, as well as some fine poetry. As a poet and writer I write late of night too.

So, here I am.
Please visit my shelf:

http://www.goodreads.com/review/list/241...

Please read my poem :) Of course, if you like it:

http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/24106...

Here is another poem I wrote in the night:

Macramé
A small place,
I call it my corner,
there is hardly enough space
for flowers and decoration.
An empty wall
still waiting for pictures
and a few details
I prefer to keep to myself.

A computer,
the cerulean light of the screen,
on the left, a white desk lamp
with a thin green cord...
a dictionary,
low sounds of music,
...my loyal companions.

It’s almost midnight.

I take off the boring eyeglasses,
rub the traces they leave on my nose
and lean my head on the left palm
watching nowhere,
I smile
and get lost in sweet reveries.
The silence has fallen with the night.
Dreams come in fragments,
no moon to paint lights and shadows
in my modest apartment.
Surprised, for the first time this year,
I see a star
on the dark, clear skies.
It is so cold.
I weave minutes to hours of wait,
and I thread beads of dreams
to the unbreakable string
of my love.

Thank you :)

The Late Night Stretch

Heavy velveteen drapes
frame the waning moon tonight
as traffic echoes
in the distance;
so far yet it’s so close.

Earlier this evening, it was so noisy,
with thumping music,
screaming children and television.

Now, as the Witching Hour approaches,
all seems to rest
hold its breath
and count the stars.
Observe the possums
eating the scraps I leave out
as the drought goes on;
leaving the poor little critters without food.

It’s quiet outside for now,
yes, it’s the late night stretch.
The time when most sleep,
some don’t,
others read,
a few go out and rage
and the rest of us write about it.


This poem was written late one night when it was unbearably hot and nobody around the place was sleeping all that well. I decided to write about what I could feel and hear while I waited for my hair to dry a little after wetting it; and this is what I came up with.

Rattlesnake Sunset

Rattlesnake coil
in the burnt setting sun.
Long shadows and fingers
of desert and grasses
tumbleweeds
red sands like oceans
Lakes and rising waves
rippling, waiting to fall.
However, it’s the sun
that hides her face
beyond the horizon.
Skeletons of fences
hanging like dead,
blackened teeth
kept up by wire.
Rattlesnake sunset
pools of death
poised to attack;
lethal injections quick
to work.
The shotgun sky melts away
as diamonds scatter
planets spin,
stars shoot…. Across black velvet.
Milky white lunar satellite
curves across the sky
heading towards another day.
The scarab inches the sun
in its path to yet
another burnt
Rattlesnake sunset.

I was inspired by Jim Morrison and The Doors music when I wrote this one.

The Storm’s Night

Hammering nails against the glass
A ghosts’ choir soprano sings.

Trees bend back and forth
To and fro in an organised mess.
Branches glued by the rain on both sides.

Lights flicker and thunder cracks.
Plunged into darkness.
Nothing but the company of candles.

Hammering nails against the tiles
The ghosts’ choir is screaming now.

It’s scarier when it’s dark.



I wrote this one during a meeting when there was a huge storm outside and I couldn't hear what our guest of honor was saying from across the room. Instead of being rude, I pretended to take notes and wrote this poem.
Later on when it was time to read our works out, I read this out. When I was asked when I wrote it and how long it took, I told them about my predicament of not an hour before and they were amazed it only took me an hour or so to write the poem... and get this... I had not one cross-out or edit on the page. It all just flowed out of the pen. I haven't been able to do this kind of thing since; but it was fun to do it at the time.

I would love to read some of your poetry too.

I've got so many to pick from, I'll see which ones I can put up here...

I would love to read some of your work. Can't wait for you to post a bit of it.

I'm Mozette. I've been writing poetry on and off since I was in high school; and have recently compiled it all in a book... however, I'm not yet published. So, if I'm permitted, I'd love to share some of my work here online with you all once in a while.