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JayceeJellies Jun 2015
Drown me in drowsiness, take me away.
I sure as hell don't want to stay.
I'm tired of trying, and then being abandoned.
So drown me in drowsiness,
Take away my horizons.
How sweet it is to, deep into the night,
    Let percolate your dreams in dripping suds
Of glowingly inebriate delight
    Distilled from golden rills and amber floods,
And into threads of starlight finely spun—  
    All witched by frozen moonlight, pitched in black—
Descend your limbs (made heavy by the run
    Of daily cares), and lay relaxed and slack
Till, saturate with drowsiness—and high
    Within a space of jewels and gems and jet—
You fall into the black hole's empty eye,
    And all the world and all your self forget.
How sweet it is to all your life forsake,
Forgetting you had ever been awake.
Michael Marchese Aug 2018
Lousy with drowsiness
Trying to write
I succumb to the eyes’
Irresistible night
A serenity scenery
Reverie taunting me
Setting in stone
A tone ominous haunting me
Ending, mind-bending me
Impending doom
As the dreaded contention
An interlude tomb
Then begins to disturb
Me from thunderous slumber
A spark to revive  
To describe my dead smile
Still playing alive
And imbibe the cascade
Conscious stream fear of falling
In love with the first sympathetic
Muse calling
Contained in a shattered frame
Out of its mind
Losing all track of time
Till the wake up call rhyme
30 Mar 2
After struggling to accept my insomina, I realised that there was no point in forcing my sleep and so I just laid there in dark staring at the ceiling awaiting, my sleep.
As the seconds go by I submerge deeper and deeper into my thoughts 
Kinda like meditation, with scatted emtions and memories
Like seeds on an open field.
This rapid thinking eventually lead to a feeling of reminiscence
Envying the feeling of having a clear mind, wanting to have some sort of control over sufficating thoughts and emotions which contribute to my ever rising anxiety. Missing the uncontrolable yet comfortbale feeling of drowsiness that indicates that my sleep is near 
After going through a sea of emotions, I tire myself out and hear muffled sounds of birds chirping and dogs barking, signs of a new day arriving.
And that's when I start to lose control, slowly but surely. My mind is now at ease and I am at peace with my demons, my movements became timid my heavy eyes were shut. And "finally"
I whispered. I fell asleep.
ruoxin Oct 2018
sitting here i'm           not here
not here, not ready    , not yet, only
wishing  it was-  is- a [lucid] dream i can't
wake up           from by my {self} and
then a wave of whimsical        drowsiness;
still not here, not there, stuck in my head
quietly awaken,       eyes close.   again
too tired, dont           wake    me    up
Emily Nov 2018
Morning.
Temporary ceasefire with insomnia,
Marked by cheerful birds.

Morning.
Start of hostilities with drowsiness,
Combating alertness ceaselessly.

Morning.
Opening salvo with heavy caffeine support,
Awakening the senses with hot beverages.

Morning.
Food, an uncertain ally.
Alertness or comas—it’s sometimes close.

Morning.
Battle lines redrawn,
But war continues perpetually.
Xandra Lynch Dec 2018
The soft blue-green of the moon’s light floods into my bedroom.
The day: over
Time ebbs away, nonexistent
The memories on the shelf fall off
The shattered glass grabs onto the moonlight and hugs it
The light dissipates
It leaves an empty shell, the remainder of light curling and taking off
to cover a faraway land with a soft reassurance of mist

The drowsiness underneath my eyes dwindles away
This is the noise that keeps me awake.
Exhilaration is pumped into my hollow bones
Painful buzzing cuts into my brain at random. The light of the moon fluctuates
The bitter food still alive on my tongue overwhelms my senses
The sharpness of the light penetrates my eye with force. I can’t see anything
The light bends, white and bright, the stars burrow into my iris
My bones are jelly, my brain is a cocoon of abhorrence, my heart is a balloon
It pops.

The beast within me ***** away at the jelly, fed.  
The creature in my brain breaks out and flies away to infest another innocent.
The noise slips away. I’m a paper girl limp on the bed.
Unable to move or feel or think or to have a heartbeat.
Quiet blossoms inside. I exist as a metaphor. I ***** my eyelids shut.
i hope they won’t fall off
The stars wink away. An infinite, dark sky looms overhead.
The darkness is a blanket, firm and reliable, warm. I drape it over myself and vanish.
Entropy lives within me. I nurture it, because it is my friend.
It flies away into its nest of clouds. It is distant. It will not come again for awhile.

Shadows shift onto the floor and murmur.
Dreams await.

© 2018
Xandra Lynch
D'Angelo Eden Oct 2018
SLEEP, OH, SLEEP

Too late to sleep
Too early to be awake
Doomed in sleep’s convoluted tapestry

Sleep, oh, sleep
I swoon over you nightly
But like a glamorous young lady
You continually play hard to get
Leonard Cohen’s “deeper than a Siberian coalmine” voice didn’t sway you
The boringness of my Epidemiology lecture notes didn’t persuade you
Sleep, oh, sleep
Why hast thou forsaken me?

Drowsiness, red eyes
and a face bereft of cheerfulness
Are all that I’m left with
On this long torturous day
Many gulps of coffee won’t ensure wakefulness
An hour-long bath in hot steam won’t alleviate the lethargy
Only serene slumbers will be the panacea to the cephalalgy
Sleep,oh,sleep
Why hast thou forsaken me?
Christy Lei Oct 2018
After some late night joy, drowsiness slid
in, we cuddled up, easing into hibernation.
A long night awaited us.
The desire for peace so fervent, we let loose
our consciousness; ears callous
from the calls of our ancestors; the ocean tide
rising, erasing all trace of human memory.
A splash of cold water.
Bouts of wakefulness — years passing
by. Hibernators, it is time to let in some
urban air; bathe in the merciless
city light, breathe.
kirk Apr 28
As I gaze into the stars, what lays beyond the night
Visions on a distant dream, a spark of gleaming light
Is there universal life, why is everything so bright
Colours drained across the sky, nothing but impending white

I stare out of the window pain, I wander what's beyond
What's inside the shimmering light, what's behind that tranquil pond
I'm transfixed I can not move, my body does not respond
A pulsating flash is seen, but I can not abscond

The window cracks and shatters, and I have no strength or power
Pieces of a tormented mind, float amongst the glass shard shower
Has true reality been lost, this is my most desperate hour
Nothing else is seen within, what does the light devour

The drowsiness inside my head, or am I just mistaken
I am dreaming bygone dreams, will I ever be awaken
My feelings are forgotten, once again I have been taken
Is my mind fully intact, my journey is now forsaken

Voices are heard amongst the sounds, of close and distant screams
The presence of cold grey hearts, are drifting in my dreams
Visions seen through a clouded haze, nothing is what it seems
Piercing eyes of deepen black, skin shinning though the beams

Flickering lights a small movement, I am the victim of damnation
I unravel piece by piece, experiments undo all creation
What's the purpose of abduction, I have a metal implantation
My humanity is being removed, I no longer have salvation

I can't escape my tortured soul, while I am laying here
Time stands still within these walls, along with all my fear
Feeling afraid and vulnerable , but I can not shed a tear
Helpless to my abductors, I am taken year by year

Are human abductees taken, to cause humanities own destruction
And implants placed under the skin, to send people an instruction
I am always taken back, a time before my last seduction
The light will come for me again, upon my next abduction
Silverflame Apr 13
The city's drowsiness
seeps into the bus,
leaving behind misty
eyes and empty promises
of a better tomorrow.
For a while, everything
seems perfect.
But I know I'm playing
a dangerous game
with this self-fabricated
pipedream.
It will eventually
burst and leave me
halfway there, enveloped
in a nirvana of despair.
Despite knowing this,
I still dive in; head first.
acacia Jul 27
Don’t worry your head of this: I wish I could turn off the fish tank as I’ve begun to hate the sound as it pours into the wells of my concrete-jungle eardrums, coated with the same saline to line the stomach that you can punch; I won’t mind.

(It won’t let me sleep—the sound is being poured underneath my sheets of skin,
boiling and bubbling, seeping into the crevices beneath my bones)
Crashing onto the floor like a cosmic air-force plane, I broke my wings, and I fell from the weight of the personnel;
no, no one saw me—then did I really fall?

Draw forth from me the syllables in my kidneys, the meter you wish to use:
these words plague my thoughts and it swirls into my throat, wanting to be drooled onto paper, dribbling like torrential raindrops;
these photos pile high in my mind, the dreams swing outside on my front porch hammock,
and it never wants to leave me alone, never wants to leave me be.

Fallen from the oak tree after climbing;
I’ve broken too many bones—I shouldn’t have tried it, for my grip was too weak; my heart aches at this fact,
I still feel my head whirling down the tree, not on my neck.
My hands move from your neck to my neck to your body to my body to everything you see in sight.
Ah, you like this? I’ll buy it for you.
Oh, I really like this. Will you buy it for me?

Spinning faster than a figure skater; I’ve fallen, sprawled out on the ice—
dipped in honey, rolled along a line of sour citrus.
I feel down and like I’m in the abyss of God’s personal Hell—no, maybe that’s an exaggeration—possibly like I’m in the hot side of the pillow that you want to flip onto the cool side—that is I.
I wish to walk on top of stilts like those ballerinas in pointe shoes—
use your head as a demiurgic dreamer, scoop pools of wave from beneath you!
I’m a Queen, and foregoing these deaths until I see fit.
Perhaps after we can about this again, talk and see what is really of this;
what is really the meaning that you give to this? Disaster?

Fill your head with soft puddles from rivers in the reverie,
free your brain from multichroméd free-thinkers;
grab my foot and drag me off the bed, pull me onto the floor and rip off my clothing.
Bite my neck and slap me everywhere, burn me with a curling iron.
I want to be bruised and I want to be loved.
You can give me the worst you’ve ever dreamed of:
fill me with things and replace my body with dreams.
Let me hear you say my name just one more time.
Fling yourself into my bouncing drowsiness,
feel yourself drowning underneath my waves,
allow your moods to be in urgent flux during my seasons.
Talk to me as if you cannot see anyone else.
Hold my hand because, Daddy, you’re the overseer of this fever, this fever.
Re-wrote and re-constructed this a third time. Still applies.
An effort to intact does not destabilise
Negative behaviours intend fatalities
It has types
I saw it in many
.
It has a pattern
And the pattern helps to resolve
It does not matter what religion
Drowsiness affects any

Wars, genocides, riots real
I told Englishman
Also in demonstrations
Crime picks-up any

Do good for a person; the person gets to be seen by many

Dr Baljit Singh
Friday, 3rd May 2019

— The End —