"overslept" poems
My mother should be an author
She carves her soul into millions of pieces
Leaving it behind all of the family photos
When I see my mother
I see a woman
Who wants to hide her soul in a needle
Just so the screaming can stop in her mind,
These bottles are rattling in the living room
You see they have put shackles on her heart,
She can't love anymore
Without having ***** in her water bottle.
Where is she hiding her beer?
I feel like my mother is giving me a scavenger hunt
From the shards of glass that were left on the baseball fields
My mother used to take me to.
You know she always wasn't like this
She was strong minded and had a big heart
Tonight I will tell you the story of a woman
Who lost her soul to the Keystones to the Miller Lites
To the ****** Mary’s.
Let's rewind time
See how to **** the soul in ten years
10- I look into my mother's eyes and I start to cry
Because I'm looking at a woman who I don't know anymore
9- I refused to bail her out of jail again
Because I'm afraid her kidney will fail if she drinks again
8- My mother staggered into the theater and disrupted the whole play,
My cast mates turned to me and asked, isn't that your mother?
7- I had to hold my mothers hand
Because she was throwing up the cocktail of drugs and alcohol
6- Daddy had to get mom out of jail she was drinking again
5- My mother throws the bottle across the room
And told me the reason why she drinks is because I'm Autistic
4- My mother overslept for my piano recital,
I didn't think it was a big deal
But I remember she spent the whole night crying
With a wine glass in her hand.
3- Mommy I didn't know your prescription came in a needle
2- Mommy the prescription say 2 pills a day
why are you taking 6?
1- My mother went to the doctor
Found out that she has Rheumatoid Arthritis
I don't know what that means,
But I know she will still be strong right?
0- She took me to a Dodger game for my birthday.
I remember Sammy Sosa hitting a home run that game
She told me that the only person that can **** your soul is yourself
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 12:16 AM UTC
Ten little soldier boys went out to dine;
One choked his little self and then there were nine.
Nine little soldier boys sat up very late;
One overslept himself and then there were eight.
Eight little soldier boys traveling in Devon;
One said he’d stay there and then there were seven.
Seven little soldier boys chopping up sticks;
One chopped himself in halves and then there were six.
Six little soldier boys playing with a hive;
A bumble bee stung one and then there were five.
Five little soldier boys going in for law;
One got in chancery and then there were four.
Four little soldier boys going out to sea;
A red herring swallowed one and then there were three.
Three little soldier boys walking in the zoo;
A big bear hugged one and then there were two.
Two little soldier boys sitting in the sun;
One got frizzled up and then there was one.
One little soldier boy left all alone;
He went and hanged himself and then there was none.
Feb 4, 2021
Feb 4, 2021 at 1:45 PM UTC
It's easy to get obsessed with something
that isn't good for the self.
For me, it was you.
You were that ****** song,
I couldn't get out of my head.
That type of chocolate,
I could never get enough of.
Those hours I overslept.
That escape I found,
every time I wept.
Those day dreams.
Those feelings.
That smile.
None were good for me,
yet that is what I'm craving.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 8:57 AM UTC
They said that since I play certain games,
I'm worth a broken shoe.
They judge people for being fans!
Think about that. Would you?
My heart's pounding like a drum,
But my blood is running cold.
I came here with a question;
The answer I must be told.
The air is filled with music
As I slash to the beat.
Getting past just one zone
Has got to be a feat!
Searching for my long-lost Dad
I need to find the answer...
First, I must groove through the Crypt
Of the NecroDancer!
I play my games; all I want
Is to have some fun.
There are seven deadly sins,
And my passion isn't one.
My annoying childhood friend
Sees me walking down the street.
She overslept again!
Now we finally meet.
She told me I should join
A club after school.
I don't really want to,
But if it makes her happy, it's cool.
Turns out, it's full of adorable girls!
My poem may be a stub...
But it's all worth it for
Doki Doki Literature Club.
I have tried other hobbies.
How many I liked: none!
There are twelve horrid curses,
And adventuring isn't one.
I may just be one small Protector,
But now that we've been attacked,
My ship was broken, destroyed!
I had barely time to react.
Stranded in space, thought I was lost.
So I gave myself the quest
To beam down, fix the ship,
And save all the rest.
Now the universe is in danger,
Six artifacts must be found.
I explore space to find them all.
I am truly Starbound!
They say it's better for me
To get my own things done.
There are 4 apocalyptic horsemen
And my high score isn't one.
I tripped and fell into a hole
Forever going down...
A small yellow flower
Welcomed me Underground.
Along the way, I met these beasts,
Heard tales of those above.
Learned of their search for humankind
With SOULs full of LOVE.
Long ago, we lived in peace
With monsters, though that failed.
It's up to me to free them
In my little UNDERTALE.
You may think that all these games
Would weigh on me a ton.
I have 99 problems,
And gaming isn't one.
Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 4:26 PM UTC
Nothing ever comes close to my love for coffee. Not even my love for shoes, music, and photography combined.
I love my coffee during those hectic stretches of time when games and school exams and deadlines are held in the same weeks.
I love my coffee during the all-nighters and sleepless nights to keep up with everything going on.
I love my coffee during those sleepy and low energy moments after the early morning trainings.
I love my coffee during the days I am running late in my first period classes because I may have overslept.
I love my coffee during the hangover mornings after those wild drinking parties.
I love my coffee during the random and spontaneous hangouts at cafés.
I love my coffee during the long roadtrips with family or teammates.
I love my coffee early in the morning and late at night. I love my coffee at any time of the day.
I love my coffee for its sweet and intoxicating aroma. Just a sniff and it already feels like I am at home.
I love my coffee served hot that it reaches deep into the soul. I love my coffee served cool that it refreshes and chills the soul.
I love my coffee for the energy it brings me. I love my coffee for making my heart beat faster.
All of that swiftly changed when I met her. In just a short moment of time of exchanging the most basic informations between us.
I do not love her but she gets me through those hectic stretches of time.
I do not love her but she helps me keep up with everything and keeps me up at night.
I do not love her but she shares her energy with me after the early morning trainings.
I do not love her but she patiently waits for me for my first period classes whenever I oversleep.
I do not love her but she takes care of me during and after those wild drinking parties.
I do not love her but she keeps up with all my spontaneity.
I do not love her but she loves long drives and adventures herself.
I do not love her but she is always there for me no matter what, when, and where.
I do not love her but she really smells so nice every time. I do not love her but she feels like home.
I do not love her but she knows me so well including my deepest, darkest secrets. I do not love her but I always find myself looking forward to chilling out with her.
I do not love her but she really inspires me. I do not love her but she makes my heart beat faster.
Nothing ever came close to my love for coffee. Until I met her.
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 5:03 AM UTC
what i said:
"you sound rough this morning."
what i meant:
"your voice is lavender and honey and tea time and supernovas colliding with gentle breezes and if i could wake up to it, just once, cocooned in a tangle of your arms and couch cushions and that blanket you keep in the back of your car, i swear by the stars in my eyes no one on this godforsaken planet would be out of earshot of my singing
i hope that tonight when i dream of you--it is no longer a matter of uncertainty, but anticipation--you speak like you've just overslept your alarm and frantically motored yourself to where i am, like is the case today.
i wish you had chosen me but if i could only listen to you speak to me, about anything--rivers or math homework or football or belonging or music or even your girlfriend--i promise i would listen with the beating urgency of a swimmer in a frozen stream, i would savor each word from your lips, like they were the spring and i was the underground daisy waiting for your kiss.
and in precisely three days i will have an essay to compose about a beautiful topic that would consume me thoroughly were it not for the memory of your groggy morning voice, so full of raspy complacency i can't breathe but instead of fulfilling my obligations i will be hashing out halfway comprehensible poetry about you and crying about how i cannot recreate the sound of your voice with any combination of hollowly clicking keys.
you are so beautiful that i could spend the remainder of my life with a five-subject notebook, scrawling 'your eyes. your smile. your hands. your voice' over and over endlessly and die feeling as though i had lived a thousand years of quiet adventure.
you are so much and too much for me and i have no idea why you see as much in me as you do but i will not question it, for fear that if i were to come too close to you, to run my fingers along the marvel of your face you would shrivel and unfurl into nonexistence, like the leaf in the fire."
and also:
"why can't your voice always sound like this?"
and finally:
******* you're attractive"
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 12:24 AM UTC
Its been one of those weeks
so I don't know what to write
but thankfully its **** day
the weekend is in sight
Monday was well just Monday
which by now I should expect
but I must admit I wasn't ready
for just what happened next
When I woke up Tuesday morning
I had overslept of course
and the milk was more like yoghurt
which just made a bad day worse
By the time I finally got to work
I'd a ladder in my hose
and allergies were in full swing
you'd swear I'd Rudolph's nose
Of course the coffee *** was empty
and the printer it had jammed
and by now it's almost lunchtime
so there's no one to lend a hand
So I worked through lunch to catch up
and somehow make amends
but then my PC up and died
which drives me round the bends
When everyone came back from lunch
I could hear all of their sniggers
Until someone finally told me
I'd my skirt tucked in my knickers
Jun 4, 2010
Jun 4, 2010 at 8:12 PM UTC
has the dawn overslept?
her shut windows remain unlit;
night still has a ball.
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 4:53 AM UTC
bath water dribbles up me
i lay smothered in the tub until my head is clearer than the water
it died a long time ago
i just never wanted to accept it
the transparency is covering my feet
i can see through it all
and although i should be sad
i can’t overlook the key components which made my life worth it
i met some great people over the years
i faced my fears and wiped the tears i wept
i overslept and got some rest when it was necessary
i heard my favorite songs til the break of dawn in the back of a bar porch
i met strangers and listened to them tell me how lovely i was
i listened indeed and i always keep it with me
it died a long time ago about 6 months in when i found out i wasn’t the only one getting attention
i just didn’t wanna accept it
thank you for that
in my mind my bags were packed i guess that’s why it was so easy to find the places where you lacked
it was easy for me to want to give up
because i knew it was already dead
love killed you
from the inside out
and each potential victim with bright eyes can’t help but hunger for the emptiness you cradle so deeply inside
hidden amongst the facade of creation
loved turned into a void for you
a void you had to fill with thrills and pills and feels
i’m trying to understand your pain
i’m standing in the rain
with my hands out forever grateful of this simulation
i bathed in pain tonight but i still remain heartfelt and empathetic and i wish to not project it onto others
and see that is why i can’t understand you
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 11:00 PM UTC
I most certainly do not care that you went for a jog at 4 am or that you overslept your alarm clock for work.
I do not care that you drove to Harvey's because you wanted some food or you washed all the dishes and still had no fork.
It is not necessarily necessary that you post every detail of your life online.
Mystery has been lost and without every detail I'm sure we would be just fine.
So nobody cares that you are taking a crap after you ate that greasy breakfast burrito and they do not need a play by play of the occurrences of your entire day.
Before you bring your fingers to the board ask yourself is this necessarily necessary?
Most likely, the answer is no.
Mar 11, 2011
Mar 11, 2011 at 8:21 AM UTC
not mine
Ten little Indian Boys went out to dine;
One choked his little self and then there were nine.
Nine little Indian Boys sat up very late;
One overslept himself and then there were eight.
Eight little Indian Boys travelling in Devon;
One said he'd stay there and then there were seven.
Seven little Indian Boys chopping up sticks;
One chopped himself in halves and then there were six.
Six little Indian Boys playing with a hive;
A bumblebee stung one and then there were five.
Five little Indian Boys going in for law;
One got in Chancery and then there were four.
Four little Indian Boys going out to sea;
A red herring swallowed one and then there were three.
Three little Indian Boys walking in the zoo;
A big bear hugged one and then there were two.
Two little Indian Boys sitting in the sun;
One got frizzled up and then there was one.
One little Indian Boy left all alone;
He went out and hanged himself and then there were none.
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 3:25 PM UTC
you're still sleeping
but I'm awake;
since 2 am
I'm wondering about
what you're dreaming
Watching the fading city lights
trough the blinds
and listening to your calm breath,
thinking about
morrow
Finally falling asleep
at 9 am;
just to wake up later to the warm space
you left beside me
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 5:45 PM UTC
Fatherless at four,
Faded since fourteen,
Floundering through life,
New failures everyday.
But a few dreams and
Fuzzy new ambitions,
Faster than I can fail.
The music was in my
Heart and soul, or,
So I thought until
I got that one letter
From the school of music.
Undecided what to do
For the next forty or fifty years,
Or whether or not I can
Even handle five more of
Just fighting to feel
Something like happiness
So my mom won't cry.
Figured I was smart,
At least smart enough,
To feel successful
Until I sat down in a
Real physics class and
Overslept the first hour
Of my exam.
**** it, I can fake it!
At least for now..
Maybe tomorrow I'll
Wake up and find my passion,
Or even better,
I won't wake up at all.
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 7:31 PM UTC
Each morning, the earth and sky meet,
At first lightly touching, eventually adjoining,
And finally presenting a blend of color,
A spectrum of pink, orange, and gold…
In all their glory.
The trumpets sound, signifying a new day,
Unlike every other, yet it is still Monday.
It seems the birds and insects congregate,
Preparing an intricate symphony,
An orchestra of billions of noises,
Each his own.
And still no one knows
Who has danced upon the grass,
Sprinkling flawless, spherical drops
Of water, frosted with glittering crystal,
Onto the earth on which we walk,
That seems so common by ten ‘o clock.
And shameful, I feel at times
When I miss the air at its cleanest
By an hour or two, or more;
When I miss the symphonic chirps,
The dampened grass and rainbow sky,
I am mournful.
Thought it seems I always recall
The orchestra performs again tomorrow
Around the time of dawn.
Feb 12, 2010
Feb 12, 2010 at 10:39 AM UTC
It's Gospel
Category: Writing and Poetry
The blacks are singing gospel music
through an open window;
they have their god.
I just said goodbye
to the most beautiful girl I have ever seen;
I don't have mine.
I need the cold bottled beer
to slide down my throat,
but the landlord has overslept.
Some people really have it made
and they generally make it a pain in the ***
for everyone else.
Fifteen minutes to go.
I've held out for an hour.
I swear to the god
who is being projected from that open window
if that door isn't open at one 'o' clock
I am going to **** someone.
Oct 10, 2009
Oct 10, 2009 at 7:14 AM UTC
I overslept again today.
Terrified of living life.
Too afraid.
To chase the sun.
I wish on the stars.
To play their part.
Wondering if I will ever be,
Good enough?
To live the life I've always dreamed.
Instead of falling fast asleep.
There's no room for me to breathe.
Suffocating and sabotaging.
The life I want for the life I don't.
Wasting away another day.
Running on empty.
Will it always be this way?
Instead I'll fall fast asleep.
Dreaming of what my life could be.
Nov 7, 2024
Nov 7, 2024 at 10:55 AM UTC
How astounding would it be
If there were infinite copies of me?
In one universe I’d be a loquacious politician,
While in another, a reclusive mathematician.
So many possibilities, so many paths to take;
One decision can alter the course of my fate.
Have you ever wondered how life would’ve changed
If you hadn’t overslept and had your day rearranged?
Or that time when you had the choice to make that trip
But opted not because your grandmother was sick?
Would you have met the love of your life?
Or be mauled by a bear during your hike?
You could’ve been inspired to pursue another career…
How baffling that a single choice has the power to steer
Your life in distinct directions,
Making more and more connections.
A network of probability with no limitations, with no bounds --
It’s a mystery of how that choice could’ve turned your life around.
Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve are merely illusions,
Seize the day, or you’ll be caught up in delusions.
Maybe it’s consoling to believe
That another you had the courage to dream.
But surely it doesn’t have to be that way.
This reality is yours to form, where only you have a say.
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 10:36 AM UTC
I devote my day to you
I dress nice for you
I show up on time for you
I work my plans around you
But some days...
I ditch you to go hang out with my friends
Maybe I forgot to do laundry and wear something *****
I might be late because I overslept
My other plans are more important
Thank you for being understanding and not giving up on me
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 5:04 PM UTC
Once, after a long summer and a few too many draughts
of harvest ale,
Father Time overslept.
While he ignored his massive
grandfather alarm clock,
the world’s population stood frozen
impatiently checking their watches and muttering to each other
“whatever could have happened?” and
“he’s always been such a reliable employee.”
He only woke when time flew into his bedroom
and nipped him on the ear
once
twice
the third bite was charmed.
Father Time woke to see Baby New Year
glaring and tapping his plump little wrist
from the end of the bed.
Father Time used a number of words that cannot be repeated.
They all had four letters.
Some of them were learned in France.
Afterwards time had to be hastened to make up for when it lost itself.
Leaves fell overnight and animals dropped into hibernation where they stood.
Thanksgiving and Christmas ran into each other, so that
people were eating turkey legs while they shopped for
presents.
None of the Christmas trees had been cut down. Instead,
on cold evenings across the world, people stumbled into the woods
lit a single candle
and opened their presents in the snow.
This of course was very messy and that year squirrels and birds had nests made of
wrapping paper and tinsel.
Poor Father Time never heard the end of his slip up.
Years later, he was still getting
alarm clocks and
roosters for his birthday.
He took them and slid them in his voluminous sleeves;
expression grave, as ever, but the slight blush
on the edge of his cheeks gave his embarrassment away.
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 9:42 AM UTC
I'm chasing your memory in my dreams only to discover I overslept.
Fantasies far from fake kisses
Causing cardiac arrest as I'm reluctantly reaching for a sense of reality that has simply wandered away willfully.
Desperately dreaming of days spent running to no end.
What a life..
Inconceivable love flowing from my fingertips only because I would rather show you how much I love you than speak it a million,
Times I spent beautifully shaming myself for the restless nights praying for your call creating nocturnal patterns all for a taste of your kiss,
Me one more time so I can prove this theory in my head is more than a theory; that it is true.
Lifelessly lusting your love throughout the night causing me to delightfully dance in your arms, only to wake up to find your love has evaporated.
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 10:28 AM UTC
Woke up half past ten,
I wanted to stay in bed again
The coffee *** was too hot,
Didn't even get to drink a drop
Slavin' hard eight days a week,
Just to barely make ends meat
Then I get my check on Friday,
Taxes took half my pay away
Overslept,
I'm so tired
If I'm late,
I'll get fired
Why bother
Why the pain
Just to go home
And do it again
But what can you do,
That's life in the Brooklyn Zoo
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 2:38 PM UTC
I’ve overslept
I’ve smoked too much
My house is unkept
And my body's wrecked
My heart's a mess
And my head is worse
The doctor said
I over think
So I sought a cure
In the form of drink
That didn’t help, so
I turned to men
They let me down
All of them
My daily pills
For various ills
Don’t work so well
I’m starting to believe
That life is hell
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 6:10 PM UTC
A cessation, the best
of black, having overslept
the eye of the needle...
some midnight sun
flung to shield this perpetual
wakefulness, becoming it the
more.
Ascents and views, sound
barriers broken...ice cold stars,
white winds of burnt cores.
Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 11:54 PM UTC
I am awake, so tired
reaching for the alarm
I have overslept
with a shrug I continue
rising to the day
ignoring the birds
forgetting the feel of sunshine
Just. So. Tired.
As though a drag has been
attached to my feet
to my very mind
useless, less than useless
yet ever present
I don't make coffee anymore
it never helps
nothing helps
nothing except the sweet release
of sleep.
But I can't always sleep
I must live, must walk about
even if I am only a zombie.
I skip breakfast
no longer hungry for food
or anything else for that matter
I dress in the usual
slacks and button down shirt
trouser socks and loafers
What a boring look
but boring is the new business
and we can't all be like Michael Douglas
from Wall Street
Just. So. Tired.
My days drag on, one after another
until the only identifier
is the date at the top of my emails
I don't care if it's Monday or Friday
what do I have to look forward to?
Nothing, that's what.
Nothing
and sleep.
I can't wait to go back to sleep.
By the time I punch out
it's all I'm thinking about.
I'm not concerned for my empty stomach
or that I missed lunch
and I probably won't eat dinner.
I didn't shop for groceries
so I'm not even sure if there's something to eat
and quite frankly, I just don't care
I just want to sleep.
Because when I sleep, I dream
and while not all of them are good
every once in a while
I have a dream that fills me
fulfills me
reminds me that I had other kinds of dreams
once.
Sometimes these little dreams motivate me
and I'll remember to shower
to eat
to buy new shoes
sometimes these dreams break through the fog
and I live for those moments.
So fleeting, so rare
Sigh
Just. So. Tired.
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 1:59 PM UTC