Insomnia Loves Me – A Collection

2013-04-28 21.52.01

[1]

 

Sleep is an illusion

 

This pale sea offers broad horizons

The static expanse of ceiling white void

narrows its eyes

twists its mouth at me

 

Rest is unsolicited advice

 

I hate television more all the time

From people’s pixelated mouths

spew diluted melodrama

and hyperextended definitions of

LoveLossTruthJusticeandtheAmericanWay

 

From the tops of auspicious coifs

arise and burst the bubbles of

ExperienceGriefHumorIll-IllustratedIrony

And they make me hate people

for loving them so

 

[I hyperextended my knee twice in the same year of high school, which wasn’t the year I got mono and sacrificed offerings to the library gods and the Dodge ram’s head for small mercies upon my wretched boredom]

 

Repose has never lived here

 

I keep coming back to that same quote…

Some tragic Greek philosopher or other

will always invade my bumper-to-bumper mind, I suppose

Or at least Bill Watterson.

 

There are so many books

full of devastating ideas

I just don’t open because I am afraid

to wear them out

to break them down

To somehow take them from their shelved alters

and for granted

 

[I don’t think the movies ruined our lives. Romantic ideals are born of lazy imaginations]

 

My quiet breath and I

pass the minutes into hours

the hours into words

the words into morning

and coffee and August come early

 

[2]

 

I can’t stop, can’t sleep

can’t sleep

all this hot soup in my head

won’t sustain the morning

 

Can’t keep from staring into the black

that doesn’t allow for shadows

Can’t stave off militias of disappointment, miniatures of greed

Can’t hide myself in false dismissiveness

Can’t help the chill bumps

of the first familiar “Salome” notes

which, after all these years, should be relaxing

comforting, and aren’t

 

I can’t sleep, but my mental red pen does

In its absence I cannot abide

to let the pages go on feeling unappreciated

The sedative someone slipped me when I WAS sleeping

has worn off

How convenient it would be to blame

Decades of environmental plunder

for the things I now uncensor

But no

 

I just got used to being seen

on less mentally unstable terms

and tried to transplant all my organs there

 

I think the rejection is saving my life

 

[3]

 

Maybe it’s the way my thoughts spin

counterclockwise in the bed

Maybe it’s the way my feelings show

in growth throughout the evening

Maybe it’s the way I need

the words in my mind

 

I can’t keep these trains of thought

from running the rails

any more than I can keep

the clouds from swallowing themselves

 

Sometimes moments come and go

with little comment

Sometimes time compounds inside my chest

Sometimes every eyelash

spans eternity

 

I don’t mind mountains of truth

backdropping my dreams

so long as truth and I

can recognize each other

 

Still the night excoriates me

in silent places

Still change happens

while I lie paralyzed

Still I sit and conjure possibilities

 

[4]

 

Dogs make for poor pillows

 

 

 

Note: All poems will now be posted on The Poem Is The Thing( http://thepoemisthething.wordpress.com/) here on WordPress. Thanks for reading!

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12 thoughts on “Insomnia Loves Me – A Collection

  1. The curse of your inherited insomnia. Of all the things your Dad could have passed on … oh wait he did – but we won’t go into that here. Here’s my take on it: insomia that is

    Insomnia and 4 Cats – by Marti Stuart

    Insomnia has never been a cruel robber of sleep from me
    – then came the cats
    – four of them
    – lined up like little soldiers
    pressed tight against my feet
    my legs
    my thighs
    my hip
    my stomach
    lying across my chest
    hot pockets
    like coals against my skin

    I lie curled up like a fetus

    I try to accomodate
    – as LONG as I can

    inevitably my discomfort wins over feline affection ( or so I like to think )
    the covers are flung
    cats scatter among hisses
    I stretch out and sleep eventually finds me

    then come the cats (REPEAT)

  2. This is fantastic. Really, I very much dig it.

  3. Did I read that correctly? A 2nd blog?
    Insomnia…a family thing.

  4. Eric Alagan says:

    Insomnia – that love we can do without.

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