Angst – my moan of night

· by · in free verse, poetry. ·

This angst —
my legacy and wound of mouth.
my moaning heart of night.

Now skies have shrunk
from closing branches overhead
Now mossed the air constricts
and with a weight of boulders
hands that hold me down.

This angst —
my legacy and wound of mouth.
my moaning heart of night.

My arms seek doors of darkened rooms
as my fumbling fingers
scrape against unyielding crags.

My body’s wrapped in blankets, tight
from soil and darkened forests
and steeled my skin is cold.

This angst —
my legacy and wound of mouth.
my moaning of night.

Angst by Alfred Kubin

Angst by Alfred Kubin

Karin wants us to write inspired by another poem that affected us a lot at toads. There have been moment when Per Lagerqvist’s poem Angst have affected me a lot. My poem is both inspired but to some extent a shortened interpretation as well. I will link up to Poetry Pantry tomorrow morning as well.
—
March 19, 2016

43 responses to “Angst – my moan of night”

  1. Hey Bjorn–one really feels the angst palpably here–the sense of depression rained down on one by the sky, and a swallowing of night sky and stony crag–very well done. Thanks for sharing it. (There is typo in your title–night–)

    I love the mossed part especially–and the sense of the blankets as earth and burial. k.

  6. The repetition of lines really does a great job of showing how angst is always returning, always looming. You really made it seem alive and touchable, the imagery is haunting.

  8. reading this really evokes emotion. the plight of falling, and fighting to rise again, once more.

    angst and suffering.
    yet somehow, especially when i look at the accompanying art, i feel a resurrection of sorts.

    great work as usual.

  9. I’m always taken by your word choices. The phrase “wound of mouth” (especially with the repetition) sings deeply into the soul. It’s almost as if the poem should be a wail… I can hear the pain.

  11. You took us to a place of deepest insecurity, and the painting increases the fearful response in the reader. Very affecting poetry.

  12. You have captured the suffocating weight of angst and inner darkness fantastically – like the worst of dreams it is impossible to wake up from

  14. It’s what it is like for us in South Africa at the moment. The ghost figure in the artwork may as well wear his face. I’ll share this on Linkedin.

  18. A dark mood here but one we all do feel at some point in our life….such powerful images…visceral that I too am feeling the constricted air…..the weight.

    ‘Now skies have shrunk
    from closing branches overhead
    Now mossed the air constricts
    and with a weight of boulders
    hands that hold me down.’

  20. I could feel the blanket of angst, in those dark hours souls moan to see the light with heavy heart trying to escape the grip of the underworld. You are def a bear…I may have to write about a bear soon.

  22. Your very own voice sings clear here, Bjorn – telling done, with some great moments too: no more so than in the last six lines.. A true treat to read…

  23. I think the angst is a poets occupational hazard, the moaning night, the muse.

  24. This whole stanza really depicts the heaviness of the angst so beautifully:

    “Now skies have shrunk
    from closing branches overhead
    Now mossed the air constricts
    and with a weight of boulders
    hands that hold me down.”

  25. What I love here, and what is the most haunting for me, is your refrain about angst. Its repetition I can’t decide feels at times like a prayer, but then a curse. A heartbeat that will not go away. Chilling and lovely all at once!

  26. “this angst” = “this sangst” … this is the angst inside of music; past tense—the songs that were sung

    This is my favorite section:
    “and with a weight of boulders
    hands that hold me down.
    This angst —
    my legacy” … So many ways hands can hold people down, both good and bad.

  30. A deep and intensely beautiful poem Bjorn…I love this line:,
    Now skies have shrunk
    from closing branches overhead
    Now mossed the air constricts
    and with a weight of boulders
    hands that hold me down.”
    Great writing!!!

  33. Angst and moaning seem to be common human plights, although I wish they weren’t!

  35. This is like a plea Bjorn. Plea to escape from whatever darkness the character is right now

  36. Terrible, this angst. I think the length is quite right in that the source of the anxiety is not named. We must feel that the person has a phobia or else there is something major to be worrying about. Nice write, keeping us searching, wonderment?
    ..

  38. I notice that poets whose second language is English (such as you and Sanaa) sometimes come up with new and richer ways of putting words together.- not incorrect but unusual. It’s a great thing for poetry. I am not singling out particular phrases to illustrate this, as it is all through the poem.

  39. “Now mossed the air constricts
    and with a weight of boulders..” That is such an apt description for this feeling–one that can overcome faith, love, and hope with its strength–which is why we have art to comprehend and fight it. Love the power in your tercets.

  40. dark and power-packed.
    “My body’s wrapped in blankets, tight
    from soil and darkened forests
    and steeled my skin is cold.”     : feels like being buried alive!

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