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Creeping On Midnight

By Ashleylister @ashleylister
Quick, it's creeping on midnight and I've a Saturday blog to write. Topic? Revenant...
Bloody hell! Get out of that one! No - wait, that's actually it, isn't it? Phew, lucky strike. Getting out of hell, bloody or otherwise and returning to whatever - that's the very essence of revenance, surely. (Checks dictionary just to make sure: one returned from the dead or from exile - probably French in origin...that figures!)
So what do we make of that?
Are we thinking reincarnation? Apparently it's making a comeback: "Life's a bitch and then you die get to do it all over again!" The Buddhist wheel and all that jazz.
Or zombies? Cue a plug for Zombieland (2009, directed by Ruben Fleischer), the funniest and my favorite zombie movie, starring Jesse Eisenberg, Woody Harrelson, Emma Stone, Abigail Breslin and Bill Murray (as himself).
Or the exile angle? Two of my favorite books are Homer's 'Odyssey' and Hardy's 'Return Of The Native' - and I've returned to both of them on more than one occasion. Highly recommended.
Or the tale of the time I gate-crashed the prestigious Revenant of the Year awards? The late and the great were gathered together on a night of high anxiety and I, the quick among the dead, was passing through this throng of wraiths, trying to get to the heart of the action but wary of the Groke. Just as I was pressing forward to see who was commanding all the attention on the gray carpet, who was leading the ghostly parade, the first rays of the rising sun fingered the palace of dust, and  methought it was time to move smartly on.
Quick. Today's poem, it's a little something not precisely on theme - return from the dead or from exile - but making a comeback (for want of anything else) from my early pages and descriptive of that death-in-life sensation bordering on near paralysis that can sometimes be induced from a too rigorous pursuit of the recreational...
Creeping On Midnight
I'm closed in
with dank flowers
in a rank corner.
The sun,
my only mourner,
has fled to bed
leaving moonlight magic
to raise its silver head.
I'm sunk so low
I might be dead
or damned at best
to lie forever
at infernal rest.
Thanks for reading. Have an invigorating week, S ;-) Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to Facebook


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