The grim noire of night is old magic made to spite the cold fury of the sun. Sleep as hard skin armoured in the little death of knowing.
"little death of knowing" is a poem in itself, really struck a chord. "cold fury of the sun" is an interesting juxtaposition that resonates, I once wrote "burn cold for days" in reference to the sun.
knowing is death? i don't get it. call me stupid. i like, old magic made [of] spite for the life of me, you cannot convince me that in any way the sun = cold fury or no fury, grim noir night, same same same i like the idea of sleep being a hard armour, skin, thing... i like the idea "little death" check plus "of knowing"; just don't get it, knowing is death, death is knowing? gimme somethin'
The way I understood that line for myself, and I'm sure I'm way off is when you find something out that you wish you didn't know. For example when a betrayal surfaces and you come to know about it, doesn't it feel like you die a little?
Thanks very much for your thoughts guys. It's nice to get some feedback. As for any meaning behind my scribble Teh-Horace, I don't get too caught up in the analysis of my own writing. Really three-quarters of a poem's underlying "meaning" (provided there is any) is born of the reader's own experiences and perspective. That's what makes poetry so awesome, that and being able to just play with images and words without the constraints of logic. Just as a point of reference, the "little death" line is a taken from old French slang for the moment of orgasm, "le petit mort", the little death.
