2 days, no sleep

pile_of_pillows

I tore up my fingers on that ring
grasping at what was not mine–
but I stole it–because it was his
and I wanted her not to have it

The late night snacking takes a toll
a lack of sleep notwithstanding
the gremlins that come out only at night
have found a niche under my skin
painful and soothing all at once

Over-thinking also has its price
this bat and ball are nothing to me now
I never did take to diamonds that well
but one time, there was an emerald
that caught my eye

I would have sold all I had for it
until I owned only that and none else
but that won’t feed anyone
and it won’t transport, or shower;
what once were needs are now desires

The tree top seemed out of reach
until waking up to fog I remembered
we must bend and stretch, and
no one gets a free ride
of government cheese for always

but with a little perseverance
I could have every dream fulfilled
if I only dream of mediocrity
and if I am not that hungry

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bus out of town

I talk too much
and get beat down
with silence
a foolish pollyanna
a sucker for a kind word

from someone who can’t be bothered
with the emotional side of things
some women
are built for speed–
I was built for empathy

all fine and good at 20
with big plans
idealism anyone–
certain it would pan out
at some point

but giving up feels good
at this moment
forgetting dreams–
I can’t give you something
you won’t take

and you can’t accept what you see
as no more than a token
the love it represented
beat up and taking the bus
to warmer climates

sleeping with the television on

Did I sleep?
I remember moments
when colors flew by
kaleidoscope
and merry-go-round
and you–smiling
that must have been a dream

our fingers
formed a web between us
and you lifted your hand
to
brush hair off my forehead–
shivering with the notion
of one hundred nights

I trampled you
and you asked for more
assumptions. predictions.
and a storm
of peppermint schnapps
the tip of your tongue
lazy
saying
come on

each day
a new destination
to reach that sunset
with you still seeing me–
and I was drawing you
into every waking hour
the way I saw you

Monday Random: just random

  • I was awake in the sweet spot of night, from 3-5
  • Both before and after this interlude, I dreamt such weird things, not all bad but all over the place. Third night in a row dreaming of my kids as small children instead of grown
  • Highlight was looking out an east window in my delirium and seeing two planets rising. Checking here I think I was seeing Venus and Mars. So cool and so bright
  • Last night I was talking to the delightful Entirety In Bits.  We nudged each other about handwritten poems like we used to submit on Twitter at #justwrite
  • Still hazy with the dreams even after 2 cups of coffee. Off to find a pen

Here’s a little something from 1957, which was always my mother’s favourite music year. I hope your Monday is outrageously good

 

self-therapy

I took a walk
my mind cleared of debris
clean and un-littered

I built a wall
to keep out your insinuations
your vague desires

I stayed awake
to flick away the nightmares
and shoo the ghosts

right saucy, aren’t they–
and the hours without ghosts
are still haunted

Saddle up

It started yesterday
as I went through my chores
my lists
working and doing
my thoughts got lost in hoof beats

Someone shook me
to get my attention
what is this dark, this shadow
that makes its way through my brain
with a will of its own? And later

during dinner, the pounding
that I perceived to be my own heartbeat
again, riders of another world traversing
my thoughts without consent
my concentration and my focus
comminuted as they picked up speed-

Why?

I am no one-a poor girl with dreams
it is hard enough to sift the toothsome
dreaming from the nightmares
but now I must try to harness them
in my waking hours
and I am not capable

I don’t have that sort of cunning
to put the bit in the mouth and keep reins
taut, to bring the thoughts back
to what I wanted, what I will
these convoluted desires

these wishes become goals
and they ride on, with no thought
the night is coming
and I will be trampled

 

 

 

falling asleep delirious from sickness
suddenly upon me on a cool foggy morning
I dreamt there was a bee around me
frantically trying to catch it as one
might cup a firefly in the palms
then realizing I could get stung I told myself
open your hands open your hands it will sting you
but they didn’t move for anxious moments
feeling the wings flutter the fat yellow black body
against my skin finally the sides of my hands
unglued I pulled them apart
and the bee hovered then flew