Hiding From Sunset

Late in the day I gravitate to the back
room with its east facing window.
My domain, an aesthetically flawed
montage of memorabilia and ample quiet.

It lacks a woman’s touch — no scents
of jasmine or scrap of bright color,
no personal pictures on the wall —
granite tabletops, dark leather furniture,

a view of the shadowed garden.
I wait in this room for night
to fall, whistle bawdy tunes to keep
Sinatra slow dances from my mind. 

Full dark quells the fear
of the west rooms where demons
are trapped in the sunset, waiting
for me to release them.

Sunset Over Lake in Palm Beach County Florida

Sunset Over Lake in Palm Beach County Florida (Photo credit: Captain Kimo)







Written for the Sunday Whirl. Really had a hard time fitting ‘whistle’ in there…not real happy with those couple of lines. All in all, a tough word list for me this week.




Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts

16 responses to “Hiding From Sunset

  1. rosemary mint

    “Late in the day I gravitate” … What great sound in your opening!

    “My domain, an aesthetically flawed
    montage of memorabilia and ample quiet” … Wow, Mark. Your ear is working hard today. Your mix of sounds is up a notch.

    “where demons
    are trapped in the sunset, waiting
    for me to release them” … Sheesh. First of all, I hardly wanted to think about the words meant because they just sounded so good to my poetry ear. I wanted to savor them. But what a great story as well! Love this. Kind of brings to mind imagery from Beauty and the Beast.

  2. Mark you have made true poetry out of the odd mish-mash of words. Mine felt manufactured and stilted, but yours tells a story, takes us there. Lovely.

  3. Laurie Kolp

    A wonderful piece, Mark. Great ending!

  4. If you can’t fit in a word, don’t use it. When words are shoehorned in, they always spoil a good poem. I only used five of the words in two poems this week.

    The point is to write; the words are merely prompts.

  5. I didn’t like the words much this week either Mark but, you put them to a very good, and very atmospheric write in this piece. I enjoyed it, very much.

  6. I like the whistling lines, Mark. Keeping one thing at bay with another…it works, and makes sense. The demons in the west rooms are intriguing.

  7. I think you managed whistle well. But the stanza I most like is the second one with the description of the room.

  8. Really like your opening lines, the description of the room, and your final stanza. In other words, the whole piece, and Tilly is absolutely right, if the words don’t fit, leave them.


  9. Love the description of your ‘man room’….I think you have done a wonderful job with the difficult wordles today….and the photo is awesome

  10. TheOthers1

    I really like the second stanza a lot. Something about the description of it as only a man’s domain. Very enjoyable.

  11. I found these words difficult too, but I think you did a good job. I like the whole idea of facing east at sunset, as in “the shadowed garden”. I like the juxtaposition of the “bawdy tunes” whistled to keep away the “Sinatra slow dances”; I think it works.


  12. Where you in Mr. Steven Kings Library? I think you might have just written about any or every male mystery writer who releases and gives life to demons on book pages. I think the words flowed rather well.
    My story verse continues with the 7th piece here:

  13. “It lacks a woman’s touch — no scents
    of jasmine or scrap of bright color,”

    This’s so the way of a woman’s touch. Nicely wordled I think!

  14. I know what you mean about having one word that doesn’t fit in during the first go-round…this time, for me, it was “flawed.” It became part of my title (which I don’t always like to do).

    However, in spite of saying all that, I believe your use of whistle works here. And probably would only seem “not” to, to you, because you knew it was that one word that took extra effort to work in! 😉

    Well done, all around!

  15. A visual feast, this one!


  16. Fascinating final stanza. I like it very much.

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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