"nighter" poems
I just had the silliest wish.
I want to drop everything right now,
and play video games
that sounds so great right now.
Just me,
a can of soda,
the tv,
controller,
and a couple games.
I wanna play all night,
until the flash from my tv seems like lightning.
Create crime,
stop crime,
**** zombies,
and play football
on my x box.
Sounds pretty good.
Pull an "all nighter"
I love video games,
so
without further ado,
its time to play
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 2:05 PM UTC
_Fear not the candle burned at both ends,
A silent dawn of broken words and disintegrated phrases,
For you have attended to the tremblings of your soul
And made them known to yourself._
Jan 18, 2022
Jan 18, 2022 at 1:38 AM UTC
I can’t sleep because I’m too tired. I’m so tired that what I just said makes complete sense...
I can’t sleep because I’m not tired at all, I would run around the world and come back home and still be awake. If I could... If I wanted to.
I can’t sleep because counting sheep is stupid.
I can’t sleep because I want to pull an all-nighter. I can’t sleep because I don’t want to pull an all-nighter.
I can’t sleep because I plan to wake up at 6 am tomorrow morning. Or 8, or 12, or 4 o’clock in the afternoon.
I can’t sleep because YouTube.
I can’t sleep because I can’t wait for tomorrow, and I can’t sleep because I don’t want tomorrow to catch up with me.
I can’t sleep because I have a scheduled 3-hour long conversation with God and something tells me we are definitely going overtime. We just have so much to talk about.
I can’t sleep because I’m hungry, but let’s not risk waking my family of the sleep I don’t get to have.
I can’t sleep because I’m afraid of dying in my sleep. You can’t tell me it would be peaceful, or comfortable, when I’m subconsciously fighting for my life, and a rest I will forever never get to have.
Rest in peace right? More like rest in pieces, I am a broken body sprawled out across a bed that is too small for me because I hate sleeping on a diagonal, I keep tossing and turning, so no, I am not resting in peace.
I can’t sleep because I will never be comfortable, I will never be able to sleep in a straight line, or on my left or right side, so lets just stare at my ceiling and wonder why I even bother trying.
I can’t sleep because my dreams will always become nightmares in which I wake up the next morning to forget my dreams of yesterday, I did not ask for a tomorrow, I did not ask for my alarm clock, I did not ask to wake up. Tell the sun to go back down for five minutes.
I can’t sleep because I will wake up to find that my arms are wrapped around my pillow, where I thought your body was. I am not hugging you anymore, because I have woken up. I don’t care it it’s not real, let me dream for just a little longer because I just wish you were here. I cannot forget how lonely I have become.
I can’t sleep because I’m waiting for the phone to ring, for a message to be sent, for burglar to sneak into my house, because I am awake and ready to fight. I will defend what I can see. But I can’t see in the dark.
I lay awake, wishing that you were here to tell me it’s safe to sleep, but we both know monsters exist in the dark.
I can’t stop wishing that you were here, I’m sorry that I can’t stop thinking about you. I just can’t explain myself, and I will stay up all night thinking of something to say to you. But I can’t…
I can’t sleep, I can’t let myself fall asleep I might never be as alive as I am right now
STAY AWAKE!!
I have so much I need to do, so please don’t let me fall asleep again. Because being here alive and awake with you is already a dream come true.
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 9:52 PM UTC
it all goes dark
when the shroud of the night
covers the earth: darkness, no light
as all the others close their eyes
their minds shut down, the air goes quiet
but the blinding fluorescence in my room
outshines the window, I see no moon
it only reflects me, my room: chaos and doom
the voices scream louder as I try to give up too soon
nightly divinity calls to me - soft - siren - lullabies - to sleep
but the eyelids, trapped open, within them my eyes weep
with each passing breath, the screeching voices cut deep -
my cheeks grow wetter while the stars glow dimmer
those dead eyes close, right before the sun's first shimmer.
Mar 3, 2023
Mar 3, 2023 at 10:21 AM UTC
It is truly cold out, 32 degrees,
and into late night.
But, in order for me to write
I stay up late, eating ****** Nuts and ice-cream
and letting my feet freeze.
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
It’s 6:47am on a Monday morning on I-71 south towards Cincinnati and I’m driving in the middle lane entirely surrounded by semis and service trucks and out of nowhere, like it was some miracle act of God, it starts pouring down rain so hard that all of the traffic stops in the height of morning rush hour, everyone’s radios playing morning talk shows so loud it vibrates the ground our tires are on and everyone’s coffees move back into their hands from their cup holders, I guess we’re all just trying to wait it out right now
I guess I have no choice but to wait it out right now, he says, hoodie wrinkled, two all nighter’s deep and still no passing grade, standing outside of the campus Starbucks, as it’s pouring down rain
I guess we’ll have to wait it out, says my sister to an 8 year old me, as I wait on the curb of our neighborhood for the ice cream truck, no matter how disfigured the spongebob popsicle’s face looks by the time I get it in my hands, and no matter the fact that I never understood that his eyes were bubblegum
I guess I have to wait it out, my father says, watching my grandmother lying in her hospital bed, getting tests taken for her potentially and what would be proven deadly, lung cancer,
Her eyes glossed over and her lips still yearning for the pull of her usual afternoon pack of cigarettes
You just have to wait it out, says my grandpa, standing next to me in his garden, after having helped me plant my first tomato seeds,
The summer has felt like forever at 10 years old, I wish it stayed that way, and I wish I liked tomatoes
I guess we just have to wait it out now, the head of police says to his crew of swat members, after having everything fail towards coaxing a young high school boy out of his boarded up bedroom, the shotgun he killed his ex girlfriend with, still in his arms
Well, we’re just going to have to wait it out,
I think to myself as I sit in this traffic at what is now exactly 7am on a rainy Monday morning in the middle lane of I-71 south towards Cincinnati, entirely surrounded by semis and service trucks
The rain will stop eventually
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 9:22 PM UTC
Ready to pull an all nighter with you
Laughing
Chatting
Flirting
Ready to pull an all nighter with you
Crying
Kissing
Learning
Ready to pull an all nighter with you
Loving
Loving
Loving
Ready to pull an all nighter with you
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 2:02 PM UTC
Its about free love, its about frugality
Step on the bohemian bus, take a ride with me
Calling all artists, all musicians every writer
This is one journey,that's gonna be an all-nighter
The radicals, the cultured, its gonna be a ride
Don't need money, just yourself, so step inside
The bohemian bus parked down by the sea
We sit in the sunshine with a dram of whisky
Don't need no rules we need free understanding
Society is governed by a law somewhat demanding
Nouveau, gypsy, dandy, zen or beat
Whatever you are come join us on the street
Its our Rainbow gathering, bless mother earth
Bless one another, live life as it is worth...
Jul 21, 2010
Jul 21, 2010 at 5:48 AM UTC
Darling, you were nothing
but the drug
that I’d been looking for.
I shot
your poison
through my bloodstream
and bled my love out through
my wrists.
when i looked up at you
and smiled
I didnt "Want a one nighter
(?)"
When you
woke up the next morning,
what made you stay?
What
made you think
that you could fix
a broken
thing like
me?
Aug 29, 2011
Aug 29, 2011 at 2:03 AM UTC
Kiss my lips and stare into my eyes
I'll forget all your faults and all of your lies.
I'll give you a chance, it's only one night of pleasure.
A night of love making that won't last forever.
We met by chance because we were both quite alone
So let's have a little fun in the no strings attached zone
We can play mature games without any regret
But when our time ends, please remember to forget
I could care less about who you are and what you do
You're just a one nighter and someone to *****
We can smile, we can laugh, but don't expect any love to come your way
I just needed some pleasure, some pain, so goodbye and have a nice day.
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 6:17 AM UTC
she twirled in a circle as she raised her glass higher,
her whole body lifted along
no one has ever seen her pull an all nighter,
and her dress wasn't very long
she slumped onto the table,
her glass fumbling and not falling
her eyes were not very able,
to see her friends calling
she whispered under her breath,
"i'm okay, i can go on"
her eyes shifting towards the left,
"it's alright, the road's still long"
she pressed her lips' to male's,
her hands wandered under a shirt
she pulled away and he said "tipsy tail"
and he took her hand away to flirt
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC
1.
Forget the things that broke
you. The thousand times oceans
fragmented your sentiment
rock. Become grains of sand
and shards of turquoise glass
so no one can grab hold of your
entire landscape again.
2.
Remember all the good
you learned to ignore in
elementary school. Study.
Read. Decide. Become a
classroom desk. Seated.
Sentient. Cold.
3.
Remove your loud mouthed
vagabond expectations like
a malignant cancer. Being
a romantic drains the
muscles pulling your smile
and the possibility of Great
will only leave you trembling
in a pseudo-fabric hospital
gown that leaves your ***
hanging out.
4.
Do things you do not want
to do. Like selling your paint
supplies to pay for student loans.
Waking up early for a morning
jog. Planning your life out perfectly
and successfully. Pulling an all-
nighter to finish a research paper
on breastfeeding. Doing someone
else’s dishes. Becoming
someone else.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 3:39 AM UTC
I was going to write a poem
about the distance
I walk
girls to their cars.
You know, to the door?
down the stairs to the front porch?
out to the first step for that last, awkward hug?
do I really like them?
Am I concerned for their safety
or is this just
the obligatory,
socially and culturally
acceptable
distance for me to walk with this particular individual?
Did I even get out of bed?
Is the distance I walk directly proportional to the amount of feelings I have for that person at that time?
Or does time of day or night play into it?
Do I actually walk them
all the way
down the hill
to where they are allowed to park,
if they are a one nighter but it is 3 a.m.?
Or perhaps to the end of my lawn,
at the opening of my small,
rickety,
barely noticed
fence,
which keeps nothing in or out,
to hold them so tight that they know,
they just know
with every molecule in their essence
that I am theirs,
all of me,
and that I do not want them
to leave
but if they must,
I shall be waiting
eagerly
with every molecule of my essence
to breathe them in again,
to feel them near me again,
to smell their sweat again?
I was going to write about that.
But then I thought,
why not write about your plants?
I realized the other day,
while watering my various plants,
six in total,
that all of them had been given to me.
They were all gifts.
By women.
My dear mother,
both of my beautiful sisters,
two rotten ex-girlfriends of mine,
and a kickass lesbian friend
I met through somebody
that got walked to the front porch.
Surely
there must be a poem
in there somewhere, I thought.
With all the females
and the ***
and the plants
and soil
and life
and all that other ********
surely
I must be able
to conjure up
something beautiful,
something wonderful
and profound
and bewildering
and inspiring
and all that other ********
but sadly for you
dear reader,
all I could come up with
was this piece of ****
you just read.
The good thing is,
I didn't write this for you.
I wrote this for me.
I have to.
Jun 22, 2012
Jun 22, 2012 at 12:06 AM UTC
Acid in my eyes
Writing, reading, researching
Leaf in vast ocean
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 6:07 PM UTC
Here's to you
and the days when it feels as though
the whole world is against you.
Here's to the times when they told you, you couldn't do it,
and you proved them wrong.
Here's to the nights where you collapsed and cried,
because you needed an emotional release.
Here's to that test you pulled an all-nighter for, and aced
To the days you would do anything to not go to school, but took all of your existing energy and did anyway.
Here's to all of those things, because they are what make you as
strong as you are now
Don't give up
Ever
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 12:29 AM UTC
She stared blankly at the computer screen
With its flickering screen of judgement.
What are you looking at?
Silence. A screensaver.
Enough of that sass.
It was finally complete.
Her hair wearing its disheveled frizz like a badge of honor
From all-night typing
And two pots of coffee
Where her comb-fingers turned the smoothness of her hair
Into a stress-reliever
As she muttered madly to herself
(But quietly, so as not to wake the roommates
Who slumbered in their honey chambers
Away from the heart of her hive of activity).
She had buzzed all night
On a caffeine-high
That made her hands tremble
Her muscles ache
And her eyes hate her.
And now
With too much to do
And a limited time to do it in
She had to keep buzzing.
Coffee *** number three was carefully stored
In a travel mug
That she clutched to her clavicle
Just to keep the warmth that much closer to her hyped-up heart.
She made her stops at offices and libraries
Retrieving promised letters
And printing the labors of her night intensive
Before she could finally deposit it
Behind the glass windows
Of the scholarship office.
This is too much work for less-than-ideal odds.
But she had no time to dwell
On the gamble she had made
And paid in hours of wakefulness
And the inked-up peelings from tree corpses.
She rushed from class to class
Where she tried to speak in coherent sentences,
To dance with sharp choreography,
And to contribute to society
But her body hated her
Because she had betrayed it
And deprived it of the only thing that it truly loved in this world:
Sleep.
It would have its vengeance.
It would have its vengeance when she was old, creaky, and could no longer move.
But for now, her body made do with small rebellions
To demonstrate its displeasure.
Sentences were not sentences
And every turn, leap, and twist
Made her think longingly of sleep.
And her body laughed.
But at long last,
The sun set
The girl slept
And then the sun rose.
And this continued to happen
Many times.
It rose and it set
It rose and it set
It rose and it set
Until she had forgotten
And her body had forgiven
The sleepless night.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 1:33 AM UTC
One week from now,
you won't remember the flavour of
my favourite ice-cream, and I'll
stop sulking because you're forgetful
and that's okay.
Two weeks from now,
a message of mine that you never got to
reply won't matter because you never
brought it up and we both just kind of
forget about it.
Three weeks from now,
we'll have our first fight and we'll cry
for the whole night thinking
is this how it feels like to be in love
and you'll call and say that you love me.
A month from now,
I'll forget all the hurtful things you've said to me
because I know you didn't mean it
and I'll have hurtful things to say too but
I'll bite my tongue because I love you too.
Two months from now,
the picture of your lock screen won't be
my face anymore because you see me everyday
so there's no point to that but mine will still be you
because at night, I will yearn for you.
Four months from now,
we will have days when we don't even talk
at all, and it ****** so bad at first
but we'll get used to it, unfortunately
because we have lives to lead.
Six months from now,
I'll pull an all-nighter due to the
cups of coffee I had the morning before
while waiting for you because
you never showed up.
Eight months from now,
a girl will answer your phone because
you have a group project and you'll send her home,
then come to mine to assure me nothing's wrong
but you'll smell like her.
Ten months from now,
I won't be sleeping in my bed anymore
because I'll roll over to your side and cry
until my eyes turn red so I move to the couch
to spare me of pitiful self-loathe.
A year from now,
you'll cease to exist in my world, and
so will I because by then I'll have left it
and it will crumble of my absence
and I hope you'll do too.
Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 11:35 AM UTC
i drank one
whole river of bourbon on
this very night
i smoked two
and a half butterflies
and now i can speak in colors
i took three hits off
this cloudy chick
and now i can sing like a sparrow
i snorted four
lines of sunshine
and now i can pull an all-nighter
i freebased five
pearls from the ocean
and now i can smile much brighter
i injected six
fireflies into my arm
this very night
i took seven
dandelions, and mixed them in a bowl
and now i can tell you all
the secrets of my soul
i swallowed eight
droplets of Hoffman's best blend
and now i can tell you
how this world will end
i ****** nine
of nature's best nymphs
on this very night
i infused ten
different sunsets
and now i can tell you the time
Dec 6, 2011
Dec 6, 2011 at 11:33 PM UTC
I pulled an all-nighter.
For an insomniac
That doesn't seem like
Such a great thing,
But there's a difference.
Staying up all night
Because I can't fall asleep
Is immensely different
From staying up
Because I'm trying not to sleep.
And you know that as an insomniac
I love sleep
Because it's so fleeting
Like whispers of wind
Slipping through my fingers--
Practically impossible to grasp!
And despite this...
I pulled an all-nighter
Because I was waiting for you.
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 7:20 PM UTC
I could say
that I'd be up late studying
or
I could say
that I couldn't sleep tonight
(just tonight, random sleeplessness)
or
I could say
that I got distracted
(by Wikipedia, the CDC, Edmodo)
or
I could say
that I fell asleep with the light on
(at my desk, with my book, and my laptop)
or
I could tell the truth
(that I don't sleep, that I hate sleeping, that if I sleep more than four hours it's as bad as pulling an all-nighter)
or
I could stay up by cellphone light
(so no one can see that I'm up)
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 9:48 PM UTC
we've all waited for something
or even someone at one point of our lives
there are a few kinds of waiting
we've all gone through
the wait we go through
while waiting for a bus, a train,
or even for the cake in the oven
to be done ,
for your favourite tv series,
for your best friend's birthday,
or your anniversary with your loved one
this is the kind of wait where we know
what we're waiting for will come to us
pain won't exist in the process of this wait
because we are sure that the wait will be over
sooner or later
dates of the days we marked down
on the calendar or
times of the days we set a reminder for
in our phones
they are constant and there forever
there's another kind of waiting
that we all have gone through too
at some parts of our lives
the kind of wait we go through while
waiting for our lives to get better,
or waiting for our loved ones
while they are fighting for
their lives in the emergency room,
or for the one you love who
left you a long time ago
to come back,
or for a second chance
this is the kind of wait
where no one knows when
will the waiting ever end
the kind of wait where it
might not even have an end
going through this breaks your heart
day by day
you start to question and wonder
when will this end?
will this even end?
even though not knowing of how
things might come to an end
we still wait like this because of
the hope we are still hanging onto,
holding onto for our lives because
if we were to ever let go,
we'd fall down and usually
the fall hurts
but what if,
what if the first kind of wait
turned into the second one?
what if,
your best friend never
makes it to her birthday
because all this time she
stayed up late was to
fight away her demons that
won her in the end
what if,
your anniversary no longer exists
because you found that
all the texts that read
"not coming home for dinner,
pulling an all-nighter in
the office to finish the assignments"
actually meant
"not coming home for dinner,
staying over in her house to finish what
we didn't last night"
you realize that
all the "i love you's" you've
ever told them in the
form of messages
were being read by them
on someone else's bed
or being read by someone else
who eventually deleted the text
after reading it
what if,
what you've been waiting for
never comes even when you were
so sure that it would?
in the process of waiting
the minutes,
hours, days, years
we spent waiting for what
we thought we knew would come
can turn into
hours, days and years
of the longest wait
for what we thought
we would never lose
and the days we marked down
on our calendars,
the times we set a reminder for
on our phones,
will still be constant
because the earth will still spin
in the direction
it always had
everything may still look
the same as it always was but
little do we know,
everything is slowly changing
and when we look back
we will realize how different
things actually were
time is a disability,
that blinds us from reality
time is a thief,
that takes away what's precious to us
time is a murderer,
killing us with each second we've
spent on waiting.
-a.l.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC
I got nothing
the crack of the bat the pleas of the vendors
the roar of the crowd the snapping of suspenders
thumbs in my pockets so I can't hitch a ride
no longer the darling busted up inside
screaming for help but no one is there
heaven has left me so why should I care
no peanuts or popcorn to offer the crowd
the boos have started and getting quite loud
it wasn't her fault she had no real choice
how I do yearn to just hear her voice
the ushers escorted her to the proper table
from a distance she reminds me of Betty Grable
the circles of rambling getting much tighter
sleepless stirring pull another all-nighter
a string of pointless one-liners end to end
like Costanza I got nothing since I lost my friend
Gomer LePoet ....
Aug 26, 2011
Aug 26, 2011 at 12:06 PM UTC
My lips weren’t made for kissing.
I fear they’ve forgotten how, most times
It’s been years
since I practiced
speaking the language
of bodies
of heated palms and parted lips
of skin on skin
Would you be willing to relearn with me?
Spend long nights with
our heads bowed over foreign text books
I promise to add
my knowledge to yours
if you promise to stroke
my spine
to whisper and gasp this language
as it comes back to me
I’ve never pulled an all-nighter
to study a subject
but I swear
that to learn this language
I’ll meet with you
every night
like there’s an exam the next day
I’ll spend hours on each sound
whole days on single words
mouthing my way
until I’ve memorized
that week’s vocabulary
then go just a bit longer,
never hurts to be sure,
just in case I’ve missed something
I’ll use my tongue as a highlighter
brightening spots
I never want to forget
with color that rises
from beneath your skin
and revisit them often
to make sure
they stick in my memory
And when we need to run through the lists
we can press our lips
together
(to make sure we’re
pronouncing it right)
We may even
have to keep it up
for hours
to get the whole list right
until we’re perfectly in sync.
Everyone knows it takes years
to learn a new language
but I’d sacrifice decades
to be fluent
in you.
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 11:34 AM UTC
sweet crunch of dry snow
below my heels, toes cracking
as i breathe in through the soles of my feet
and inhale winter at its finest
at its latest, midnight now
and when the sun breaks
i'll be inside
and will this chill still be with me?
tonight, i told myself
i am going to find out
two hours of sleep
dangle above me, a sharp hook
that i refuse to take
because tonight is not a night
for oblivion
i've got words in me
sharp ones protruding from my spine
and soft ones whispering
saying, you'll be fine
and i don't know who to believe anymore
since i cannot believe myself
and so i look to midnight, to one in the morning
and every hour after
just give me the answer, i ask
and i'll go gently into the day
it's just days like this
when something falls into place
and i, oblivious
don't notice
until some clairvoyant seventh sense
reads me like a book, and i am opened wide
and the time it takes
to close back up again
is a lifetime within a nighttime
and so days like this
turn into nights like these
sweet crunch of dry snow
click my heels, three times
and i'm home
and i stayed up all night
for the first time in my life
because
i was thinking of you
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 1:04 AM UTC