Morning is remorse

Morning is remorse,
as lipstick left on glass,
stale last left beer,
left in scent of cigarettes,
sunlight razor blades.
The shower she left running
as she left me drowsy
to my jackhammers
furry tongue and ash

Yesterday we stroboscoped
tiptoed, bounced —
We were candy floss.
We were butterflies and fireworks.
We were us, you were you,
me and you, who were you?

Awake to news in black,
my coffee black, and bleak is day.
I dress in black,
did she leave a number?
will she come back?

Still life with newspaper by Juan Gris

Kerry asks us to try out an old prompt at toads today. I did a gritty aubade. I don’t know if a morning like this is wishful thinking or a nightmare. I will also link to poetry pantry tomorrow morning.
—-
July 1, 2017

30 responses to “Morning is remorse

  1. You painted quite the picture with this one, Björn, and I think your choice of word by describing it as gritty is right on. I think you did an amazing job of shaping this poem to create the image of morning being remorse.

  2. I actually think this poem reminded me of “Toads” by Philip Larkin- it seemed like the monotony and the “blackness” of the morning was quite unwelcome after the flimsy whimsical night before- the candyfloss imagery was edible…oh to be candyfloss again. Perhaps the real Toad is age…

  3. This definitely evokes the idea of the morning after the night before. You include images to arouse the memory and conclude with those questions we hate to have to ask.

  4. It is strange isn’t it we get a gift and think that gives us the whole world until we are brought back down to earth and what we had has just run through our fingers. Beautifully descriptive poetry.

  5. I really like how the middle verse stands out completely from the rest of the poem – it’s so light-hearted, which emphasises the sombre tone at the beginning and end.

  6. Ah, I would say the poem is more of a nightmare rather than wishful thinking. Smiles. The furry tongue and ash doesn’t seem pleasant, and not knowing if she will return or not is indeed kind of a bleak thought to awaken to.

  7. Very effective aubade. A learning moment for me; I had to go research this. Your poem nails the requirements, and nails the emotions.

  8. Well, candy floss, butterflies and fireworks are all short-lived, which explains the plaintive morning after! Great grit!

  9. I found the way in which you sketched this piece: fascinating. You have struck the feeling – remorse – and then set about coloring it in with a series of bleak images, sliced through the middle with a candy floss yesterday. Powerful writing!

  10. Oh, now I want to stroboscope! Lovely morning-after poem. The great title sums it all up, then the way you expand on it captures just the right ‘gritty’ feel. Almost, it could be from a Raymond Chandler novel, but I don’t think Philip Marlowe ever felt remorse.

  11. Sounds like kind of a nasty night. I love the way you described the bar-scene tongue the next morning.

    This is my favorite part:

    “We were us, you were you,
    me and you, who were you?”

    You did a great job capturing the confusion.

    This section is also really creative and interesting:

    “we stroboscoped
    tiptoed, bounced —
    We were candy floss.
    We were butterflies and fireworks”

    I like the closing as well … the almost funereal vibe.

    This sure made me giggle thinking of kinky alternatives for words and meanings:

    “to my jackhammers
    furry tongue and ash”

  12. Powerful poem on loss. And, no, she did not leave a number, and she will not come back.

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