The nighthinker is silent
The nighthinker is silent tonight,
His mind is at a beach tonight,
Sailing away on a moon.
The nighthinker is sleeping tonight,
The nighthinker is sleeping tonight.
His mind is running away from his aching back,
And his piercing thought.
The nighthinker is relaxed tonight,
The nighthinker is relaxed tonight.
Soul's at peace,
Harbors no storm.
The night thinker awakes today,
He awakes today.
And sees around him,
A revolving world of lights,
With the silky jazz music in the background,
And the construction of Spain in his mind.
The nighthinker is seeing that day,
Seeing a cruise liner abandoned,
It's ballrooms aching for one to tread,
It's dining rooms waiting to be serviced.
Slowly sailing the Bermuda Triangle,
A lone cruise liner,
In a crystalline sound,
Carrying a rainbow.
To know that crying over spilled brain juice,
That is already sunk infinitely in the dredges of the mind,
And to know that his beautiful irony won't be hauled up the
dark coal mines
of northern France,
Used to forge beautiful verse and beautiful things,
To give a hint,
To the revolting thoughts and pitiful cries of long nights,
Thinking of those trapped under buildings in far off lands,
And scheming in the mud of despair.
And for once he can sleep rested and assured,
Knowing that his wrathful thought is in disrepair,
And that no one wants a cruise line.
That he knows that he is in the hands of the void,
And that he has broken the pitiful chains of heavy thoughts,
And touched deep slumber.
December snow is softly
pounding upon the peat,
Soft vapors of a rich heritage
Rise and melt.
A culture's dynasty in Detroit,
Tonight's motor-town blues are silent.
Hush sweet machines,
Let the snow fall tonight.
People look up tonight,
And pale sleders in the city of Brotherly Love
Look up tonight.
And I alone call the brothers and sisters
From those red iron hills in Georgia,
I alone beckon them to come,
To mass around the world and come look
At the soft snow falling.
And high in the Colombian mountains,
Where the light is brighter,
The men and women are fiercer,
And the night sky is filled with a flickering fire
Coming from the camp of a lonely shepherd.
And when I walk home today,
Walking for my brisk tea,
With the crunching rocks under my feet,
And when I realize that this nature,
The privileges of solitude,
They are mine.
And when that little girl with golden lace ribbons in her hair
And when people look up and say, "La La La",
"This is December snow."
|* About Ersin AKINCI:
"Hi, my name is Ersin Akinci. I'm 14 years old and I go to
North Bethesda Middle School in Bethesda, Maryland. I enjoy acting,
computers, robotics, and, or course, poetry! I've been writing
poems for four years and the more I write the more fun I have.
I like poetry because it is a great way to channel your energy
into something constructive. I highly recommend it anyone. You
can contact me at Earksiinni@aol.com
Night Thinker" was read by Sinem SENOL during
"A Poetry Breeze From The Shores