Tapestry in Black
Now I lay.
Me, down…
to sleep
the startled, interrupted unrest
of the depressed.
Were it simply tears by day,
then hitting pillow come the light of the moon;
this, people would “get.”
The complicated tapestry
woven in shades of black.
The schedules I lack.
The discipline gone slack.
The coat left on the rack.
The never going back.
The pills I must ingest
to calm the manic distressed
and keep myself on track
My folly is my trolley:
What track?
Where?
Was I s’posed to stop there?
Now I lay.
Me, down.
To sleep?
I gaze at the inconstant moon,
wishing I were of silver hewn.
Morpheus, come, please claim
this shattered, fragile frame.
© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For Poets United Think Tank Thursday, Moon
Photo courtesy of miya.tea-nifty.com
Sharp Little Pencil 
Pearl Ketover Prilik
A wonderful flow to this poem Amer… the last two lines really brought it home. Insert applause here ! 🙂
Sharp Little Pencil
Pearl Girl, thanks so much for this. Those two lines were my final thought, which rarely happens, as I often write from the ending… Love, Amer
Debbie
The poem is perfect, Amy. If it is what is going on right now . . .that I don’t like for you one bit. love and prayers.
Sharp Little Pencil
It was, a couple of weeks ago, and the moon prompt allowed me to express this feeling. Fine now, though, and thanks for your concern… Amy
Average Poet
This is really good, you can feel the frustration and longing, I like the middle section and love the last two lines, outstanding!
Sharp Little Pencil
Hmm… wondering about your blog name. Bet you underestimate yourself, and coming over to see.
Thanks for your kind words about my work! Peace, Amy
Penny
Such a stark, searing description – its familiarity touches me on so many levels. I really admire your work. penny
Sharp Little Pencil
Penny, thank you so much for your comment. Very encouraging! This came out of a depression that lifted last week… thank God and meds and therapy…
Peace, Amy
Inside the Mind of Isadora
Intense and deep … each word is sending out
loud messages. You write from caverns within.
Awesome ..
Izzy xoxo
Sharp Little Pencil
“From caverns within…” Love that comment, Izzy. Of course, my caverns are occasionally filled with bats, and that’s when the really harsh poems come out. Not to mention the guano, eeeeew!
Seriously, lovely comment, and thanks. I’m just feeling snarky, which is good! Love you, Amer
Inside the Mind of Isadora
LOLOL … guano just made me laugh up a storm.
Snarky is good – I call mine quirky when I’m being funny and silly. We can all use a little silliness sometimes.
Hugs to you my dear girlfriend ….
whimsygizmo
Oh, Amy. This is gorgeous, and sad. And touching. And melodic. Beautiful, beautiful, my talented friend.
Sharp Little Pencil
De, thanks so much. I’m coming over to see your little sunset toes now!! Peace, Amy
purplepeninportland
Amy, Beautiful take. those last four lines sent me to the moon!
Sharp Little Pencil
Purple, thank you so much for this. To the moon, Alice, ha ha ha. As I mentioned earlier, the last two lines are actually the last two I wrote, which is rare for me, finishing a poem at the end! Peace, Amy
ella
I love how your moon showed it’s dark side and allowed us in! I loved how you wrote it, but so hope you aren’t on this dark side now~ ATB xo
Sharp Little Pencil
Ella, thanks for your concern. No, this was based on a two-week depression that lifted in time for the moon prompt! Ironic, no? But that dark side, she lurks, ready to show herself at any time. That’s the life of a manic depressive, I guess, but I’m managing better than some. Peace, Amy
El Guapo
Strong, touching poem.
Loved the rhythm of it, especially the speed it gathered, broken up in the last verse.
Sharp Little Pencil
Thanks so much. You’re right about the pacing; wasn’t sure how to describe it, but it does roll faster. Good observation, thanks! Amy
Lance
You know the line in the song Mr Jones by Counting Crows when he says “grey is my favorite color, it feels so symbolic”
That my anxiety, my mindset, you know? Just gray and later fades to black when I can sleep.
I had an emotional connection with this at the right moment. Great poets can do that. Thank you for being a great poet.