A Poem by Simon Clark to Celebrate National Poetry Day 2013**  

I didn’t sleep last night for fear of dreaming,
For if my eyes closed and my mind wandered,
It might picture a time when you walk away,
When the door you held open and invited me through,
Closed,
Shut,
Locked and final,
I didn’t sleep last night for fear of dreaming.

I didn’t sleep last night for fear of waking,
Waking up to a cold and empty bed,
Where my night visions turn into night terrors,
Where you say you never loved me and you never could,
Cold,
Shunned,
Lost and frozen,
I didn’t sleep last night for fear of waking.

I didn’t sleep last night for fear of writing,
For if my ink bled onto its canvas,
Revealing images I’d concealed from view,
Opening the door to see an unrequited love,
Chaste,
Stopped,
Loosed and falling,
I didn’t sleep last night for fear of writing.

I didn’t sleep last night for fear of crying,
The broken tears I hoped would never fall,
Yet looking up at the blanket of ceiling,
The lonely waters erupted and they cleansed my soul,
Cleared,
Soft,
Light and freeing,
I didn’t sleep last night for fear of crying.

I might just sleep tonight; no fear of being,
In my bed of dreams and reality,
Where my daily life is lived in fantasy,
The ecstasy of knowing I can close my eyes; sleep,
Calm,
Smooth,
Laced and fading,
I might just sleep tonight; no fear of being…

…asleep.

Rainbow spider web,
Silken twinkle on the view,
Natures perfect sight.

I am the turkey
You found with the palm of your hand

I am the pigeon
That fooled you for a dove
Alakazam

I am a weasel
I told you before-
My lungs are broken
Like his discarded wishbone

I am that word on the tip of your tongue
I missed my cue
When this cape got stuck to the dangly bit
It was shining
And smelled like "good morning"

I am abandoning my skeleton
I don't like the skin
That it put on today

I took a second helping of determination
Wake me in an hour-
I'll be resting
From digesting

Hold the phone-
Regret made my stomach eat itself to death

Don't Dilly Dally, Dear

I'm the rolling pen
That now lives
In your underwear drawer
I guess you'll never see me again

I'm retracting that statement
Like her claws from my Quacker Factory sweater
Sometimes we all need
A little extra support

Dearest Bones,
Without you I'm a jellyfish

I painted my face this morning
And now it's swimming inside my black tears
The proof is on the front of his shirt

I am your pillow that thinks it's a shrink
I told your hair
It needs to find a new direction in life

Don't believe me?
I'll lie back down

But give me a second-
I'm in the gutter right now
And need to clean myself off

Don't worry, Goose Darling-
A little Vitamin E oil
Will restore your immaturity
From the **** joke
That's giving you crows feet

Oh how I wish
My fossil was void of down feathers
But I frequently find
That I'm tickled inside
And how else would I fly in my dreams

All guns are loaded;
All words are chosen;
All choices faint;
But All regrets stay late and cuddle you in after the date...

Intrusive thoughts
Enamoring fiend
Amidst an enchanting euphoric rapture
my apotheosis complex washes away
like knives to my throat
in a deluge of familiar burning healing

How I crave to abdicate Self
Oh unrelinquishing,
(r)
                          e  lusive Soul;
       (c)
Abandoning me to languish
In this castigating material existence

Slowly
                                                  feeling
My faith wavering
Withering                                                        
                                                  to the point
of nihility

Layer by layer
Shed my illusions
Shatter my Ego
So maybe I'll realize
Real enlightenment

Because I stopped caring for humanity ages ago.

If misery loves company
How can even I feel lonely
Alone to my thoughts
In a crowd of my peers?
Just keep up appearances ;)

You all look so oblivious with boxes over your heads...

Obscurely I yearn to be lucid
But instead am welcomed
by livid disdain

I just want to watch the world burn
An inferno; more ****** to churn
for my every advance she spurned
don't object my grotesque romance
or squander it in a moment of happenstance;
rather, project a mental image by perchance
Of me pursuing an remembrance
of the past,
in the present; instead of looking forward
to the pen I wield in hand;
Dubiously proclaimed mightier than the sword