• Rate this poetry
User Review
4.8 (5 votes)


written by: Tina Privitera-Reynolds


Boogeymen and witches,
Nosferatus and gnome goblins,
And wraiths that wispy slink
About the house in
Peripheral midnight-black
All conjurings from
The inside of your own brain’s
Blueprinted hellscapes
Are vanquished by the
Baby-soft glow
Of a wound tungsten filament
Cradled by a fragile globe
Of fused quartz.
A motherly,
Warm incandescence
Fills the cold vacuum of
Night’s unknown empties,
Barely achieving the visibility
Of a braided wick’s flame.
Gentle forces don’t reach far
For fear of exceeding their grasp.
A dim halo of calm
Swaddles lovingly
All uneasy blanket thrashers,
Sweeter than a million little
Melatonin kisses.
But, the Grim Reaper’s scythe
Always cuts unexpected.
The wire coil runs too hot
And bursts in one final,
Exultant swan song
Firework of perfect white light.
Black seeps in on all sides.
And you wait in rigid paralysis,
Vulnerable to nightmares dreamt
In waking anguish.

Tina Privitera-Reynolds

Tina Privitera-Reynolds

Tina Privitera-Reynolds is a 21-year-old part-time wage slave and full-time dreamer. She recently took up poetry as a sort of cathartic release, and she seeks to improve with every new poem she turns out. She mostly spends her time chancing shooting stars and combing grass for four-leafed clovers, just biding her time until she hits her Mega Millions jackpot.
Tina Privitera-Reynolds

Latest posts by Tina Privitera-Reynolds (see all)

Read previous post:
In The Clouds, poetry written by Lynn White at Spillwords.com
In The Clouds

In The Clouds written by: Lynn White   I’ve seen a dragon in the clouds and a humming bird and...