... on the darkened edge, no voices heard that I recall.
Slipping around the house in some slumber, part awake,
level one asleep... I shuffle wander.
sleep evades any hope of repair as another morning will
arrive new and fare.
a large mug of coffee fill, as I shake off the softened chill..
when will I find the proper pill? ("Coffee, ah, will be
the morning's demand reward".)
Sleep is a dream evading my time. It sits in circles
of the mind. circles I chase and wish to capture paste on
the wall.
Whereas I could unclinch the cliff preventing my
fall. Never falling with surmount insistence, instead,
standing at attention of all life's varied assistance.
Tired, not as I exist in this zombie state, sleepy eyes
still closed sleep's gate. Exhausted, drained and
mentally lame. My body screams in pain and vain.
Rest is a flight. HE avoids my night. t.v. channels,
meditation, infomercials, revelations. Try to wish
away the wake, and start to fall... into the hush...
slowly slush.... sleep a must.... BOOM! the bell of
conscious sends a scatter to sleepwalk nausea.
Pills prescribed for these ills, none for me do their will.
Wishing day to stumble an hour's nod. Dawning sun...
again in quicksand's mandate trod.
Nov 9, 2020
Nov 9, 2020 at 11:54 PM UTC
... on the darkened edge, no voices heard that I recall.
Slipping around the house in some slumber, part awake,
level one asleep... I shuffle wander.
sleep evades any hope of repair as another morning will
arrive new and fare.
a large mug of coffee fill, as I shake off the softened chill..
when will I find the proper pill? ("Coffee, ah, will be
the morning's demand reward".)
Sleep is a dream evading my time. It sits in circles
of the mind. circles I chase and wish to capture paste on
the wall.
Whereas I could unclinch the cliff preventing my
fall. Never falling with surmount insistence, instead,
standing at attention of all life's varied assistance.
Tired, not as I exist in this zombie state, sleepy eyes
still closed sleep's gate. Exhausted, drained and
mentally lame. My body screams in pain and vain.
Rest is a flight. HE avoids my night. t.v. channels,
meditation, infomercials, revelations. Try to wish
away the wake, and start to fall... into the hush...
slowly slush.... sleep a must.... BOOM! the bell of
conscious sends a scatter to sleepwalk nausea.
Pills prescribed for these ills, none for me do their will.
Wishing day to stumble an hour's nod. Dawning sun...
again in quicksand's mandate trod.