Call of the Dark Light

The Angel – Caravaggio – found HERE

Call of the Dark Light

Come night, we are Caravaggio’s angels
disrobed of their halos.
In the moonlight, bouncing off the window,
the reflection of our hands scares us.
The world swallows us like dollops
of rotten milk.

Tomorrow, we are but the silk
strings of the cocoon of a beautiful goo
growing butterflies.

Daylight ‘s burning ,
candles flicker over love letters,
the eyes surf the cursive wishing they were bows
and our bodies, our bodies
more like violins.

The fairytale does not scare the frog
that slumbers, floating on a nenuphar.
Our infinities but moments,
dust under the water.
Yesterday, we were the river
rocking it to sleep,
and now, and now but commas
after every number,
the shush of our creators
counting sheep.

Come noon,
riddle us drunk with the sunlight,
drop us to the shadows on the Earth like we are pears.
Warm wine in the warm blood,
spun between two fingertips like pearls.
Let us live to have a porch to sit on
while watching the storm
dispose of its childish innuendos on the lawn.

we’ll be gone.
So leave the door a crack open
while you’re leaving.

*for Death by Broken Shoelaces over at Desperate Poems. Please check out the prompt and join in. The poem, for me, is a little look back to one of my own, old, favourite writing in a poem and is a slightly sour pocket of awareness of the, often cruel, passing of time – whether we are ready or not, happy or sad, about it. It was additionally inspired by the painting I’ve shared.


18 responses to “Call of the Dark Light”

  1. If you take the painting by Caravaggio at its word, St. Matthew wrote his Gospel by dictation – there’s the angel counting off the steps to Gehenna & glory. (Why did you repeat the same image twice?) Writing the love poem is what we attempt with our bodies, but revision is a time-wearing and -mocking process; getting the poem right takes so many attempts. I guess we’re still following the Angel’s lead, even if the boy is now a ghost. (Disrobed of his halo, as you put it.) Gorgeous lines: “Our infinities but moments, / dust under the water” and “Come noon, / riddle us drunk with the sunlight, / drop us to the shadows on the Earth like we are pears.” So well done, Marjana. Thanks for sharing it at Desperate Poets.

    1. Thank you for reading, Brendan, and for hosting the wonderful prompt! The image appears twice because with this clothing of a theme for my blog , it does not show the picture unless you make it a featured image as well – upon doing so, it unfortunately shows it twice.
      I observe something often that I believe makes us all childlike, at night, when we all are without our halos, and it is inspirational, as well as various art, in this case Caravaggio’s , which only lives on in reproductions and colorized photographs.

  2. This poem is wonderful.
    It makes me think what a thief time is.

    Love your new theme!

    1. Thank you, it took only 4 years or so to change to something I like, from the discontinued one.
      Time is so many things, and a thief as well, but that’s why they say “No honour among thieves!”

  3. Your writing is exquisite. I drank in its beauty, especially the goo that will become butterflies (!!!) And those perfect closing lines. Wow. Glad to have encountered you in the blogosphere.

    1. Thank you so much, the nice words have made my day ❤

  4. The second and third stanzas, with their musing about bodies and what they carry and are or are not, captivated me.


    1. Thank you so much, Shay, it was the part of the poem where I hoped simplicity could convey something as complex as wishing you could be the music, not just the instrument.

  5. Delightful phrasing throughout this piece. Open door nor not, we are all leaving.

    1. Yes, and searching for the little ways to stay. Thank you so much for reading and leaving me a word of your own.

  6. A captivating write , the way you used the contrast between darkness and light.. I think that dividing line is where humanness lives.

    1. Thank you, Bjorn, your line about humanness is at least three new poems entirely!

  7. The opening really draws the reader in.. I think I like the idea of becoming a cococon growing butterflies the most.. given a choice!

    1. Thank you so much for reading, I would very much like all of us to blossom like the butterflies do.

  8. Really a rich read, full of nuance. I love “..the cocoon of a beautiful goo..” to describe our becomings, and the wistful tone throughout, culminating in that perfect penultimate stanza with the storm’s “childish innuendos..” Excellent writing, and a pleasure to read. Also bonus points for adding ‘nenuphar’ to my botanical vocabulary.

    1. Thank you so much for reading, I am glad you enjoyed the poem and happy about the new word learnt, because it was the same for me; that part of the poem was inspired by a Serbian poem/recitation I was often told by my grandma, about a frog who sits alone on a nenuphar, and I could not remember the English word for it for the life of me!

    1. Thank you, glad you enjoyed it!

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About Me

I don’t mind the sun sometimes,
the images it shows,
I can taste you on my lips
and feel you in my clothes.
Cinnamon and sugary
and softly spoken lies,
you never know just how you look
through other people’s eyes


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