Sunday, June 29, 2014

Black Velvet

picture credit:

The hush of the empty house slams through me,
and in the hollow emptiness all I can hear
are voices that aren’t really there,
that descend upon me, irresistible and suffocating;
I welcome their numbing embrace.
For the silent black of smooth velvet,
that soothes every muscle, every thought, all awareness,
lets me escape into a night that lasts ‘til the next age,
where I can ease this longing I always feel,
and relieve this need that is always near,
and replenish the emptiness that’s captured my home.


  1. I don't know where you come up with subjects and thoughts...but do keep up on what you're tend to grab us and draw us into your realm and I'm lovin' every minute of it.

  2. Liked the white feather in the image - contrasts well with the smooth black velvet in your poem.

  3. I have an affinity with these sentiments - very much so - so I can hear from where this person is coming. As hootin Anni says, you just pluck these delightful themes as though by magic.

    I have a bit of difficulty commneting lately so I find I have to send twice and it accepts once - blogger again!!!

  4. yikes. an empty house can be so full of memory...then you flip the script and welcome their embrace......becoming one with spirit...finding an end of torment...and freedom in the after...

  5. I love the silence of an empty house silence is always temporary in this world so I try to enjoy it.
    Very lovely.

  6. The hush of the empty house unnerves me ~ I like the use of silent black of smooth velvet ~

    Very emotionally despairing, a good write, smiles ~

  7. Highly evocative piece; a lovely, somewhat eerie nuance.

    It strongly reminds me of a place I once visited in Norwich in Norfolk UK where I once lived. In the centre of this ancient and picturesque cathedral city is a place called 'Stranger's Hall', a kind of museum of years gone by. It's just an old house, quite beautiful yet simple - and anybody can wander through it, as I did one lunch-time.

    It was devoid of other visitors that day and yet as I stood in the dining room, quietly looking at the table and other furniture, I could sense people talking. It was as though these old walls had stored the murmuring voices of many years ago. There seemed to be something still living here ... not spookily, just in the walls, the air, the space. And I was totally alone that day.

  8. I love "the hush of the empty house slams through me"....what a powerful line Shadow. This piece captures loss in such a strong way. Another amazing write!

  9. I thought Black Velvet was about Elvis. Shows how much I know--huh?