Wednesday, April 29, 2009

She Arose

She arose,
Pulling herself up on the counter by the soft chairs,
eyes tight with concentration, eyes dark, dark clothes.
Like a shark breaking shining water - teeth grimace like jaws.

She holds the counter bravely,
hands clamped tight on wood,
as the whole nightclub rocks and buffets in the storm of the music,
the rushing wind of lights,
A while later -

- she loses her grip,
slips off the ship
body limp, she hits the steps up to the soft chairs -
but, softly padded, she's protected, and rolls like a baby on the ground,
No bouncers around,
no friend to phone.

No one wants to help or get involved
"Help"
she shouts, then
"Fuck off"
when they try.

She kneels up, then stands, then hours later somehow leaves,
bouncing off the walls, as she flies,
another mystery left unsolved.
How we can end up so alone.
So totally alone.

4 comments:

Colm Keegan said...

sounds like me leaving the Hennessey awards!! Nice poem, autobiographical?

Niamh B said...

Hmm - a few too many Hennessey's then?

Not autobiographical (cheeky fecker), but biographical I suppose, inspired by this woman I saw out last weekend - I had all my best buds there, and she had no one, and it was just a bit sad, and scary, how badly wrong things can go.

beedlemama said...

there is something terribly lonely about that time of night.. love this Niamh

Niamh B said...

Thanks a million BM