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Elise E Apr 2014
He's so beautiful when he's sleeping.
And even though his eyes are closed
I can tell he's dreaming.

He's smiling while he's sleeping.
And even though he may not know it
I can see him beaming.

His eyes are bright when he is sleeping.
And though his eye lids try to hide them
I can feel his soft eyes gleaming.

I shouldn’t watch him sleeping.
For if he wakes and sees me here
He'll know that I was looking.

Is it strange I watched as he was sleeping?
It's just when he sleeps he looks so happy,
And he's warm and soft when he's sleeping.

I shouldn’t watch him sleeping.
For I look really silly here
And there's a chance he's peeping.

I want to touch his face a-sleeping.
But we are not alone in here
And the others'll think I'm creeping.

I love to see his face a-sleeping.
And it pains my heart to know he knows
Others find his face appalling.

I can't wait 'till he's done sleeping.
I want to hear his voice like thunder
But right now he is sleeping.

I can't wait 'till he's done sleeping.
I want to see his eyes of fire
But right now he is sleeping.

I want not to bother him, or wake him while he's sleeping.
I just want to watch him 'cause
He's beautiful when he's sleeping.



#13_3/31/13
He may not know it, but I am looking at him. And I am smiling. Why would I want to do anything else? He's so beautiful when he's sleeping.
Kurt Philip Behm Jun 2018
Sleeping with the Muse,
  my nights have grown short

Sleeping with the Muse,
  my spirit comports

Sleeping with the Muse
  words dance with delight

Sleeping with the Muse
  confronting my fright

Sleeping with the Muse
  her will tests again

Sleeping with the Muse
  not lover nor friend

Sleeping with the Muse
  my dreams sacrifice

Sleeping with the Muse
  all rest put on ice

Sleeping with the Muse
  the whispers come clean

Sleeping with the Muse
  excuses demeaned

Sleeping with the Muse,
  my spool is respun

Sleeping with the Muse
  divorced from the sun

Sleeping with the Muse
  in darkness I learn

Sleeping with the Muse
  the day will confirm

Sleeping with the Muse
  till dawn’s freeing light

Sleeping with the Muse
  —new words to take flight

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2019
Sleeping with the Muse,
  my nights have grown short

Sleeping with the Muse,
  all senses comport

Sleeping with the Muse,
  words dance with delight

Sleeping with the Muse,
  confronting my fright

Sleeping with the Muse,
  her will tests again

Sleeping with the Muse,
  not lover or friend

Sleeping with the Muse,
  my dreams sacrificed

Sleeping with the Muse,
  all rest put on ice

Sleeping with the Muse,
  the whispers come clean

Sleeping with the Muse,
  excuses demeaned

Sleeping with the Muse,
  my spool is respun

Sleeping with the Muse,
  divorced from the sun

Sleeping with the Muse,
  in darkness I learn

Sleeping with the Muse,
  my spirit confirmed

Sleeping with the Muse
  till dawn’s freeing light

Sleeping with the Muse
   —new verse to take flight

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
John Beetle Sep 2013
’d rather be sleeping than seeing you

I’d rather be sleeping than seeing my friends

I’d rather be sleeping than be dead

I’d rather be sleeping than being in a crowd

I’d rather be sleeping than talking to people

because the people I seem to only talk to are dumb and

never have a clue what they are saying

I’d rather be sleeping than being around you

even though we are together most of the time

and that time is well spent

I’d rather be sleeping

I’d rather be sleeping because

I’d rather be sleeping without you

I’d rather be sleeping with you

I’d rather be sleeping because

there is no point of being up

I never get anything done

I’d rather be sleeping

because I get to

dream

I’d rather be sleeping because sleep

seems to be the only thing that

keeps me going

Sleep you are good to me

but the problem is

I can never sleep
Elizabeth Fruin Nov 2014
I'm sleeping through storms
'cause I don't want to see  the thunder
I'm sleeping through storms
'cause I don't want to have to wonder

I sleeping through storms
'cause I don't want to feel the rain drops
I'm sleeping through storms
'cause I don't want to be there when my bubble pops

I'm sleeping through storms
'cause I don't want to see the floods
I'm sleeping through storms
'cause I want to wake up to the rose buds

I'm sleeping through storms
'cause I want to see the blue skies
I'm sleeping through storms
'cause I don't want to hear these lies

I'm sleeping through storms
'cause I don't want to feel anything
I'm sleeping through storms
'cause I can't bare to hear one more tragic thing

I'm sleeping through storms
to leave the past behind
I'm sleeping through storms
Hoping that my mind will rewind

- E.A.F
Maybe you want to avoid life and just enter memory lane.. Back when all was "right" but remember that the memory of light is sometimes brighter than it really is..
Day is over
All went well
At least as far
As I can tell
Traffic Lights
Green not red
And then I thought
Of what he said......

When things are going well son
Don't poke the sleeping bear
Don't even venture near it
Don't poke it, don't you dare
As long as things are going
The way you want...it's fair
To tell you....don't you ever
Poke the sleeping bear

Dinner great
The kids were good
All was going
Like it should
Out for drinks
then I heard
In my head
The old man's words...

When things are going well son
Don't poke the sleeping bear
Don't even venture near it
Don't poke it, don't you dare
As long as things are going
The way you want...it's fair
To tell you....don't you ever
Poke the sleeping bear

Lightning struck
She walked in
Jeans as tight
As second skin
Wife looked over
Then I knew
I'd been caught
Not much to do

I went and poked the sleeping bear
Stupid me, it wasn't fair
I didn't know that she'd be there
But I had done gone and poked the bear
One quick look and I was caught
Was it my fault that she was hot?
I didn't mean to, so I thought
So all this good, was all for naught

When things are going well son
Don't poke the sleeping bear
Don't even venture near it
Don't poke it, don't you dare
As long as things are going
The way you want...it's fair
To tell you....don't you ever
Poke the sleeping bear
SabreLi Jan 2017
If they had their way all they would say
Is ignorance is bliss, save it for another day

They say I
Should let sleeping dogs lie
Tell me I have got nothing to prove
Why don’t I just move on?
Tell me why not let sleeping dogs lie
You’re only gonna cause more pain
Open a can of worms when there’s nothing to gain

But they don’t know that every waking minute
I’m getting closer to reaching my limit
Cos even in my sleep you’re haunting my dreams
Unless I **** the lies I can’t be done with these regimes

Don’t ask why
Even sleeping dogs lie
When they rest on a bed of untruth
Nothing but lies burn through
Let them die, let their sleeping lies die
Cos sleeping isn’t dead and buried
And the lies and the cheating aren’t temporary

And they don’t know that every waking minute
I’m getting closer to reaching my limit
Cos even in my sleep you’re haunting my dreams
It’s time to **** the lies so I can be done with these regimes

It's high time
To let sleeping dogs die
I have got nothing left to lose
I’ve paid all of my dues
Let them die, let those sleeping dogs die
Cos sleeping isn’t dead and buried
When the lies and the cheating aren’t temporary

Copyright © 2017 KF
New year new start and all that...
Elizz Jul 2018
Her lips awoke the sleeping city.
Her lips awoke the sleeping city.
And
When she spoke.
They lost everything they had ever had.
Dreamt of aspired to claim.
Her lips awoke the sleeping city.
Buildings collapsed families fell apart.
But her lips still awoke the sleeping city
And how could they not?
Even within the safety of the day no one dared to ignore the words that crested and tumbled out of her mouth.
Her lips awoke the sleeping city
Soothing the restless and striking fear into the hearts of the rich
Her lips awoke the sleeping city
And sometimes the best thing to use to awake a sleeping city
Sung and rocked to sleep by a lullaby of soft lies and twisted grins and crossed fingers behind backs.
Is the truth
So when her lips awoke the sleeping city
It was as if a finely second crafted skin had been peeled off.
Her lips awoke the sleeping city.
Snehith Kumbla Sep 2016
while you were sleeping,
stars stepped out to dance,
trees whistled a tune with the wind,

river shimmered a firefly glow,
sheet of grass blades spread cool,
street mongrels howled a love ballad,

cat clawed a tune on the guitar,
the late Ravi Shankar plucked
divine on his ghostly sitar...

while you were sleeping,
world made a blanket of clouds,
crown of a dozen sunflowers

ii

while you were sleeping
I delved out of this dream
and finally opened my eyes,

saw illusions on angel wings,
mermaids celestially sing of
beauty's imprisoning knots,

dazed world of impossibilities,
eternal bewitchment, disparities,
all afire in new unbiased light,

it is the puzzle that binds you,
not its swab drab culmination,
a loop threading in forever land,

iii

while you were sleeping
I fled the valley, the valley
of hatred, fear, the blind,

while you were sleeping
while you were sleeping
while you were sleeping
Jimmy Solanki Feb 2015
Sleeping heart
Beats slowly as if fighting
The hands of time
Sleeping heart
Wounded from the warring
Thy ****** crime

Sleeping heart
Croons slowly, out of tune
Whispering lullaby
Sleeping heart
Howling under a blue moon
Cowardly calamity

Liar liar
Weeping slowly
Liar liar
Scheming
Dastardly liar

Sleeping heart
Calmness and composure
Corrugated tin roof
Sleeping heart
As you were
As you are
Your dark innocent grave
Sleeping heart
Fly away to dreams
Sayer Apr 2014
conception
grace
time
waiting
beds
money
more money
spent
gone
fighting
loving
hugging
kissing
slapping
screaming
sleeping
waiting
more waiting
more fighting
broken
birth
baby
sleeping
tired
laughing
crying
all three
fighting
sleep
older
growing
crawling
talking
and walking
sleeping (all the time)
sickness
and health
more or less wealth
tired
sleep
school
friends
come back home
sleep
do it all over again
grow
again
watch
parents
fight
bite
kiss
eat
regain consciousness
remembrance
middle school
growing
girls and boys
boys and girls
attraction
satisfaction
hormones
deadly
parents fighting
parents loving
sleeping all the time
killed inside
confused
laughing
immature
maturing
High School
relationships
joking
camps and fights
realization
forget conception
grow older
become an adult through
broken
friendships
and glass
in the mind
sleeping all the time
dreams
remembrance of
reality and fiction
crescendo
music
writing
movies
books
TV
parents fighting
no longer loving
become an adult
fall out of love
and into confusion
into an ever deeper love
obsess
question
(do they?)
realize
have a good time
or not
graduate
go to college (or not)
***
***
***
***
***
or not
graduate (or not)
sleeping (all the time)
home
marriage
job
kids
work
accomplish
don't accomplish sit
sleep
fight
eat
sleep
sleeping (all the time)
no such thing
as kids or
partners
alone
realize
everyone's gone
dreams
gone
life asleep
like you
work
success or no success
you must try (just a little)
and then die
Cedric McClester Dec 2015
By: Cedric McClester

I have trouble sleeping
A million thoughts
Run through my head
And so I lie awake
Tossing and turning in my bed
Wish I could go to sleep
And get some rest instead
I have trouble sleeping

I have trouble sleeping
Though I could take a pill
And drift right off I suppose
But I don’t think I will
I might become addicted
Captured by the thrill
I have trouble sleeping
And guess I always will

I have trouble sleeping
And that’s just a fact
There’s a name for my condition
How about insomniac
If there’s a guarantee
That I’d be coming back
All I wanna do
Is slowly fade to black

I have trouble sleeping
Maybe it’s my fear of the dark
It doesn’t take that much
For my brainwaves to spark
And get my mind racing
Until I jump the shark
Cuz I have trouble sleeping
So don’t forget the quotation mark

















Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2915.  All rights reserved.
I Have Trouble Sleeping was inspired by something British singer Adele said in a New York Times interview.
Roy H Albrecht Aug 2018
Sleeping, Sleeping, Sleeping
at midnight they are creeping.
look who is peeping.
while you are sleeping, sleeping, sleeping.
The eyes of the night are they not a fright?
peeping, peeping, peeping
while you are sleeping.
little lion Feb 2018
sleepless nights
sleepless night
sleepless nigh
sleepless nig
sleepless ni
sleepless n
sleepless
sleeples
sleeple
sleepl
sleep
slee
sle
sl
s
sl
sle
sl­ee
sleep
sleepi
sleepin
sleeping
sleeping a
sleeping al
sleeping alo
sleeping alon
sleeping alone
sleeping alone.
Jake O Nov 2015
The Modern Sleeping Beauty is not found in the middle of a forest
Surrounded by flowers and small animals
With a light shining through the treetops
Illuminating her pristine body

The Modern Sleeping Beauty is not awoken by a prince
Wearing a royally white outfit
Who softly kisses her on the lips
To remove the magic curse

The Modern Sleeping Beauty does not finish the fairy tale
Marrying the handsome prince
With a happily ever after
Disney-style ending

No, the Modern Sleeping Beauty can be found curled up on a couch
Wearing a leather jacket and grass-stained jeans
Listening to someone else's music
Undisturbed by the world bustling around her

And the Modern Sleeping Beauty is awoken by a nondescript character
Who heard the bell ring
And wanted his headphones back
So he shook her lightly

Still
The Modern Sleeping Beauty
Is more beautiful
Than any fairy tale
The sleeping eye
sees nothing aside
from the sleepers dream.
It may be shut
for fear to wake
only to face
an assembled fate.
May we never know
as sleeping eyes cannot speak
but rest assured,
these sleeping eyes do very well weep.
Written 11 years ago, 11/20/03
Q Nov 2012
They hide while you're sleeping
and come when you rise.
They come from the weeping
and run from your eyes.

You escape while you're sleeping
with such a surprise.
The thoughts you'll be keeping
are dripping with lies.

You wish you were sleeping
so you could forget.
You want to stop weeping
and have no regret.

Can you always be sleeping?
You know that you can.
You need to stop weeping,
but not by that plan.

You won't always be sleeping,
you won't always smile,
you won't always be weeping,
but you'll live a long while.
Sleeping at last, the trouble and tumult over,
Sleeping at last, the struggle and horror past,
Cold and white, out of sight of friend and of lover,
Sleeping at last.

No more a tired heart downcast or overcast,
No more pangs that wring or shifting fears that hover,
Sleeping at last in a dreamless sleep locked fast.

Fast asleep. Singing birds in their leafy cover
Cannot wake her, nor shake her the gusty blast.
Under the purple thyme and the purple clover
Sleeping at last.
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Phoenix Oct 2019
The Sleeping Giant awakens
Peeling open his eyes for the first time in a couple megaannum
Mother Nature embraced him the
moment he laid to rest
But she calls out to him now
For Mother Nature was withering away

The Sleeping Giant lifts a hand
Shaking away the dust and dirt
Careful not to disturb the plant life
growing there
He slowly moves
As if his joints were cemented together

Carefully he stands
Moving Mother Nature's blanket
Setting it softley on the cold ground
For she calls to him, and he must answer

He stands, towering as tall as a mountain
Stronger than graphene
Mere mortals had written stories about the Sleeping Giant
But they were forgotten a few millennias ago

The Sleeping Giant did not forget
He had laid to rest in Mother Nature's
embrace
Hoping the mortals would remeber him
But time had passed, and they had
forgotten

Time is a mortal construct and therfore does not apply to the Gods
The Sleeping Giant only rested a short
while
But generations upon generations of
mortals lived and died during his
slumber
And Mother Nature's pleas for help
awoke the sleeping beast

He stood atop Everest
And wept at the sight before him
For the mortals had broken their promise

Mother Nature was dying which was why she cried out
For mortals created machines
And destroyed more than saved
And the Sleeping Giant was awoken to
protect his beloved Mother Nature
PK Wakefield May 2011
FROmRosesDeeply
D w,n
o      inrose's
        d;E
          e
         ply Sleeps a downy deep rose
A rose unrising sleeping
A rose of deeply sleeping
Downy Petals weeping
From the bulb of deeply sleeping
Sleeping deeply Rose,RISE!andSPEAKsoSWEETLY,
             a colour sweetly Rose
a colour of your sleeping
    the colour that youaren't speaking
       (when your downy petals sleeping)
deeping in their sleeping
                won't break that darkness speaking
'bout thy downy petals sleeping
Benji James Jun 2017
Rainy nights, cloudy skies
Chasing me all through my life
This time I've just had enough
People always said when you get older
It'll get rough, But I didn't realise just how much
When childhood memories are all you've got
Every day your telling yourself you can't give up
You live each day the way you've been taught
And you placed your trust in the one you love
But no one is receiving your call
This time nobody's here to break your fall

It tears you apart
Every time you play this part
You'll never be a work of art
Nobody will ever see inside your heart
Oh sweetheart,
You'll never top this chart

Give me the morphine
So I can't feel a thing
Take some more sleeping pills
To get me through this
Just let me overdose
I've never been this close
Put me to sleep, Sleeping Beauty
I've taken my vows
It's time to make these lights go out

Lost within these dark nights
You used to be so starry-eyed
Now all you are is mystified
That everybody's gone and left you behind
At one stage you were cool
But now everybody's played you for the fool
Thought you were all in the game
But instead, you've lost your mind
For committing to this crime
Shouldn't have tried to steal her heart
Should have listened to yourself
From the start and just gave up.
Now look who's dealing with a broken heart

It tears you apart
Every time you play this part
You'll never be a work of art
Nobody will ever see inside your heart
Oh sweetheart,
You'll never top this chart

Give me the morphine
So I can't feel a thing
Take some more sleeping pills
To get me through this
Just let me overdose
I've never been this close
Put me to sleep, Sleeping Beauty
I've taken my vows
It's time to make these lights go out

You've been driven insane
From all the blood rushing to your brain
And you thought you could outrun this train
You've been hit by love
Cupid what have you done
I've been hoping, praying and wishing
That she was the one
I tried to follow the dove of love
It lead me somewhere
I never want to see again
It showed me a part of me
That I never want to feel baby

It tears you apart
Every time you play this part
You'll never be a work of art
Nobody will ever see inside your heart
Oh sweetheart,
You'll never top this chart

Give me the morphine
So I can't feel a thing
Take some more sleeping pills
To get me through this
Just let me overdose
I've never been this close
Put me to sleep, Sleeping Beauty
I've taken my vows
It's time to make these lights go out

©2017 Written By Benji James
It happens while we were sleeping too much;
Someone had stolen what we gather for years.

It happens while we were sleeping too much;
Someone ruined what we build for years.

It happens while we were sleeping too much;
Someone of our friends listen to lies.

It happens while we were sleeping too much;
Some of our friends wavered and wandered.

It happens while we were sleeping too much;
We lose some of our good friends.

It happens while we were sleeping too much;
We might become too late to run after them.
FIRST SOCIETY OF THE PHILIPPINES
Now the other princes of the Achaeans slept soundly the whole
night through, but Agamemnon son of Atreus was troubled, so that he
could get no rest. As when fair Juno’s lord flashes his lightning in
token of great rain or hail or snow when the snow-flakes whiten the
ground, or again as a sign that he will open the wide jaws of hungry
war, even so did Agamemnon heave many a heavy sigh, for his soul
trembled within him. When he looked upon the plain of Troy he
marvelled at the many watchfires burning in front of Ilius, and at the
sound of pipes and flutes and of the hum of men, but when presently he
turned towards the ships and hosts of the Achaeans, he tore his hair
by handfuls before Jove on high, and groaned aloud for the very
disquietness of his soul. In the end he deemed it best to go at once
to Nestor son of Neleus, and see if between them they could find any
way of the Achaeans from destruction. He therefore rose, put on his
shirt, bound his sandals about his comely feet, flung the skin of a
huge tawny lion over his shoulders—a skin that reached his feet-
and took his spear in his hand.
  Neither could Menelaus sleep, for he, too, boded ill for the Argives
who for his sake had sailed from far over the seas to fight the
Trojans. He covered his broad back with the skin of a spotted panther,
put a casque of bronze upon his head, and took his spear in his brawny
hand. Then he went to rouse his brother, who was by far the most
powerful of the Achaeans, and was honoured by the people as though
he were a god. He found him by the stern of his ship already putting
his goodly array about his shoulders, and right glad was he that his
brother had come.
  Menelaus spoke first. “Why,” said he, “my dear brother, are you thus
arming? Are you going to send any of our comrades to exploit the
Trojans? I greatly fear that no one will do you this service, and
spy upon the enemy alone in the dead of night. It will be a deed of
great daring.”
  And King Agamemnon answered, “Menelaus, we both of us need shrewd
counsel to save the Argives and our ships, for Jove has changed his
mind, and inclines towards Hector’s sacrifices rather than ours. I
never saw nor heard tell of any man as having wrought such ruin in one
day as Hector has now wrought against the sons of the Achaeans—and
that too of his own unaided self, for he is son neither to god nor
goddess. The Argives will rue it long and deeply. Run, therefore, with
all speed by the line of the ships, and call Ajax and Idomeneus.
Meanwhile I will go to Nestor, and bid him rise and go about among the
companies of our sentinels to give them their instructions; they
will listen to him sooner than to any man, for his own son, and
Meriones brother in arms to Idomeneus, are captains over them. It
was to them more particularly that we gave this charge.”
  Menelaus replied, “How do I take your meaning? Am I to stay with
them and wait your coming, or shall I return here as soon as I have
given your orders?” “Wait,” answered King Agamemnon, “for there are so
many paths about the camp that we might miss one another. Call every
man on your way, and bid him be stirring; name him by his lineage
and by his father’s name, give each all titular observance, and
stand not too much upon your own dignity; we must take our full
share of toil, for at our birth Jove laid this heavy burden upon us.”
  With these instructions he sent his brother on his way, and went
on to Nestor shepherd of his people. He found him sleeping in his tent
hard by his own ship; his goodly armour lay beside him—his shield,
his two spears and his helmet; beside him also lay the gleaming girdle
with which the old man girded himself when he armed to lead his people
into battle—for his age stayed him not. He raised himself on his
elbow and looked up at Agamemnon. “Who is it,” said he, “that goes
thus about the host and the ships alone and in the dead of night, when
men are sleeping? Are you looking for one of your mules or for some
comrade? Do not stand there and say nothing, but speak. What is your
business?”
  And Agamemnon answered, “Nestor, son of Neleus, honour to the
Achaean name, it is I, Agamemnon son of Atreus, on whom Jove has
laid labour and sorrow so long as there is breath in my body and my
limbs carry me. I am thus abroad because sleep sits not upon my
eyelids, but my heart is big with war and with the jeopardy of the
Achaeans. I am in great fear for the Danaans. I am at sea, and without
sure counsel; my heart beats as though it would leap out of my body,
and my limbs fail me. If then you can do anything—for you too
cannot sleep—let us go the round of the watch, and see whether they
are drowsy with toil and sleeping to the neglect of their duty. The
enemy is encamped hard and we know not but he may attack us by night.”
  Nestor replied, “Most noble son of Atreus, king of men, Agamemnon,
Jove will not do all for Hector that Hector thinks he will; he will
have troubles yet in plenty if Achilles will lay aside his anger. I
will go with you, and we will rouse others, either the son of
Tydeus, or Ulysses, or fleet Ajax and the valiant son of Phyleus. Some
one had also better go and call Ajax and King Idomeneus, for their
ships are not near at hand but the farthest of all. I cannot however
refrain from blaming Menelaus, much as I love him and respect him—and
I will say so plainly, even at the risk of offending you—for sleeping
and leaving all this trouble to yourself. He ought to be going about
imploring aid from all the princes of the Achaeans, for we are in
extreme danger.”
  And Agamemnon answered, “Sir, you may sometimes blame him justly,
for he is often remiss and unwilling to exert himself—not indeed from
sloth, nor yet heedlessness, but because he looks to me and expects me
to take the lead. On this occasion, however, he was awake before I
was, and came to me of his own accord. I have already sent him to call
the very men whom you have named. And now let us be going. We shall
find them with the watch outside the gates, for it was there I said
that we would meet them.”
  “In that case,” answered Nestor, “the Argives will not blame him nor
disobey his orders when he urges them to fight or gives them
instructions.”
  With this he put on his shirt, and bound his sandals about his
comely feet. He buckled on his purple coat, of two thicknesses, large,
and of a rough shaggy texture, grasped his redoubtable bronze-shod
spear, and wended his way along the line of the Achaean ships. First
he called loudly to Ulysses peer of gods in counsel and woke him,
for he was soon roused by the sound of the battle-cry. He came outside
his tent and said, “Why do you go thus alone about the host, and along
the line of the ships in the stillness of the night? What is it that
you find so urgent?” And Nestor knight of Gerene answered, “Ulysses,
noble son of Laertes, take it not amiss, for the Achaeans are in great
straits. Come with me and let us wake some other, who may advise
well with us whether we shall fight or fly.”
  On this Ulysses went at once into his tent, put his shield about his
shoulders and came out with them. First they went to Diomed son of
Tydeus, and found him outside his tent clad in his armour with his
comrades sleeping round him and using their shields as pillows; as for
their spears, they stood upright on the spikes of their butts that
were driven into the ground, and the burnished bronze flashed afar
like the lightning of father Jove. The hero was sleeping upon the skin
of an ox, with a piece of fine carpet under his head; Nestor went up
to him and stirred him with his heel to rouse him, upbraiding him
and urging him to bestir himself. “Wake up,” he exclaimed, “son of
Tydeus. How can you sleep on in this way? Can you not see that the
Trojans are encamped on the brow of the plain hard by our ships,
with but a little space between us and them?”
  On these words Diomed leaped up instantly and said, “Old man, your
heart is of iron; you rest not one moment from your labours. Are there
no younger men among the Achaeans who could go about to rouse the
princes? There is no tiring you.”
  And Nestor knight of Gerene made answer, “My son, all that you
have said is true. I have good sons, and also much people who might
call the chieftains, but the Achaeans are in the gravest danger;
life and death are balanced as it were on the edge of a razor. Go
then, for you are younger than I, and of your courtesy rouse Ajax
and the fleet son of Phyleus.”
  Diomed threw the skin of a great tawny lion about his shoulders—a
skin that reached his feet—and grasped his spear. When he had
roused the heroes, he brought them back with him; they then went the
round of those who were on guard, and found the captains not
sleeping at their posts but wakeful and sitting with their arms
about them. As sheep dogs that watch their flocks when they are
yarded, and hear a wild beast coming through the mountain forest
towards them—forthwith there is a hue and cry of dogs and men, and
slumber is broken—even so was sleep chased from the eyes of the
Achaeans as they kept the watches of the wicked night, for they turned
constantly towards the plain whenever they heard any stir among the
Trojans. The old man was glad bade them be of good cheer. “Watch on,
my children,” said he, “and let not sleep get hold upon you, lest
our enemies triumph over us.”
  With this he passed the trench, and with him the other chiefs of the
Achaeans who had been called to the council. Meriones and the brave
son of Nestor went also, for the princes bade them. When they were
beyond the trench that was dug round the wall they held their
meeting on the open ground where there was a space clear of corpses,
for it was here that when night fell Hector had turned back from his
onslaught on the Argives. They sat down, therefore, and held debate
with one another.
  Nestor spoke first. “My friends,” said he, “is there any man bold
enough to venture the Trojans, and cut off some straggler, or us
news of what the enemy mean to do whether they will stay here by the
ships away from the city, or whether, now that they have worsted the
Achaeans, they will retire within their walls. If he could learn all
this and come back safely here, his fame would be high as heaven in
the mouths of all men, and he would be rewarded richly; for the chiefs
from all our ships would each of them give him a black ewe with her
lamb—which is a present of surpassing value—and he would be asked as
a guest to all feasts and clan-gatherings.”
  They all held their peace, but Diomed of the loud war-cry spoke
saying, “Nestor, gladly will I visit the host of the Trojans over
against us, but if another will go with me I shall do so in greater
confidence and comfort. When two men are together, one of them may see
some opportunity which the other has not caught sight of; if a man
is alone he is less full of resource, and his wit is weaker.”
  On this several offered to go with Diomed. The two Ajaxes,
servants of Mars, Meriones, and the son of Nestor all wanted to go, so
did Menelaus son of Atreus; Ulysses also wished to go among the host
of the Trojans, for he was ever full of daring, and thereon
Agamemnon king of men spoke thus: “Diomed,” said he, “son of Tydeus,
man after my own heart, choose your comrade for yourself—take the
best man of those that have offered, for many would now go with you.
Do not through delicacy reject the better man, and take the worst
out of respect for his lineage, because he is of more royal blood.”
  He said this because he feared for Menelaus. Diomed answered, “If
you bid me take the man of my own choice, how in that case can I
fail to think of Ulysses, than whom there is no man more eager to face
all kinds of danger—and Pallas Minerva loves him well? If he were
to go with me we should pass safely through fire itself, for he is
quick to see and understand.”
  “Son of Tydeus,” replied Ulysses, “say neither good nor ill about
me, for you are among Argives who know me well. Let us be going, for
the night wanes and dawn is at hand. The stars have gone forward,
two-thirds of the night are already spent, and the third is alone left
us.”
  They then put on their armour. Brave Thrasymedes provided the son of
Tydeus with a sword and a shield (for he had left his own at his ship)
and on his head he set a helmet of bull’s hide without either peak
or crest; it is called a skull-cap and is a common headgear.
Meriones found a bow and quiver for Ulysses, and on his head he set
a leathern helmet that was lined with a strong plaiting of leathern
thongs, while on the outside it was thickly studded with boar’s teeth,
well and skilfully set into it; next the head there was an inner
lining of felt. This helmet had been stolen by Autolycus out of
Eleon when he broke into the house of Amyntor son of Ormenus. He
gave it to Amphidamas of Cythera to take to Scandea, and Amphidamas
gave it as a guest-gift to Molus, who gave it to his son Meriones; and
now it was set upon the head of Ulysses.
  When the pair had armed, they set out, and left the other chieftains
behind them. Pallas Minerva sent them a heron by the wayside upon
their right hands; they could not see it for the darkness, but they
heard its cry. Ulysses was glad when he heard it and prayed to
Minerva: “Hear me,” he cried, “daughter of aegis-bearing Jove, you who
spy out all my ways and who are with me in all my hardships;
befriend me in this mine hour, and grant that we may return to the
ships covered with glory after having achieved some mighty exploit
that shall bring sorrow to the Trojans.”
  Then Diomed of the loud war-cry also prayed: “Hear me too,” said he,
“daughter of Jove, unweariable; be with me even as you were with my
noble father Tydeus when he went to Thebes as envoy sent by the
Achaeans. He left the Achaeans by the banks of the river Aesopus,
and went to the city bearing a message of peace to the Cadmeians; on
his return thence, with your help, goddess, he did great deeds of
daring, for you were his ready helper. Even so guide me and guard me
now, and in return I will offer you in sacrifice a broad-browed heifer
of a year old, unbroken, and never yet brought by man under the
yoke. I will gild her horns and will offer her up to you in
sacrifice.”
  Thus they prayed, and Pallas Minerva heard their prayer. When they
had done praying to the daughter of great Jove, they went their way
like two lions prowling by night amid the armour and blood-stained
bodies of them that had fallen.
  Neither again did Hector let the Trojans sleep; for he too called
the princes and councillors of the Trojans that he might set his
counsel before them. “Is there one,” said he, “who for a great
reward will do me the service of which I will tell you? He shall be
well paid if he will. I will give him a chariot and a couple of
horses, the fleetest that can be found at the ships of the Achaeans,
if he will dare this thing; and he will win infinite honour to boot;
he must go to the ships and find out whether they are still guarded as
heretofore, or whether now that we have beaten them the Achaeans
design to fly, and through sheer exhaustion are neglecting to keep
their watches.”
  They all held their peace; but there was among the Trojans a certain
man named Dolon, son of Eumedes, the famous herald—a man rich in gold
and bronze. He was ill-favoured, but a good runner, and was an only
son among five sisters. He it was that now addressed the Trojans.
“I, Hector,” said he, “Will to the ships and will exploit them. But
first hold up your sceptre and swear that you will give me the
chariot, bedight with bronze, and the horses that now carry the
noble son of Peleus. I will make you a good scout, and will not fail
you. I will go through the host from one end to the other till I
come to the ship of Agamemnon, where I take it the princes of the
Achaeans are now consulting whether they shall fight or fly.”
  When he had done speaking Hector held up his sceptre, and swore
him his oath saying, “May Jove the thundering husband of Juno bear
witness that no other Trojan but yourself shall mount
Shofi Ahmed Jul 2018
When the sun
is a sleeping beauty at night
shining on the Moon!
The night is wake
is a stunner far cuter.
It knows no cold foot
is on the move.

The full wax of the starry
sky keeps awake.
But none could chart a line
exposing a beautiful
night in the veil, no one
says a single word.

The first one perhaps that
dared to open the mouth
only to be speechless
to be lost for word!

Not a night or two ago but
since the dawning of the time!
“It really is,” I whispered, “It really is a beautiful world."


     “This really doesn’t feel safe,” Jamie said, her voice holding just a hint of fear. She was probably right. By anyone’s standards, this was straight up stupid, and here I had convinced her to come along with me.
     “Nah it’s totally fine. I wouldn’t do anything to put you in too much danger.” I said this without a hint of doubt in my voice, confident as usual. I had to keep the fearless and confident image or she might change her mind. I hoped the risk would be worth it in the end, but I couldn’t really be sure. How could I know unless I tried? If I didn’t try, I would just be left wondering how great it might have been.
     “We are really freaking high.” This time Jamie said it deadpan, more of an emotionless observation than anything else. Again, she was right. I looked down the long white ladder past her. It was probably 80 yards to the ground from where we were. Above us was another 20 yards of ladder, leading up to a narrow platform. We were climbing a water tower. The platform above us circled around the tower just below where it began to bulge outward into a spherical shape at the top. There was no safety cage around us, nothing to break our fall except for the climbing harnesses we wore. Each harness had two straps, each with a clip on the end. One clip would be snapped onto the first rung, then the next clip to the second, and so forth until we reached the top. It wasn’t fool proof but it was better than nothing.
     “But seriously my hands are getting tired. How much further is it?” Jamie was great, but complaining was one of her most annoying flaws. Most people wouldn’t have made it this far anyway. The fact that she had was just a testament to the athleticism and strength she had underneath all that complaining.
     “Close. Maybe fifty rungs. Hang on for another five minutes and we can sit down and rest.” Yet again she was right. My hands and forearms were burning like crazy. I had long ago learned that climbing with gloves on a slick painted surface was asking for trouble, so today we had no protection from the narrow rungs pressing into our skin.
     For the next fifty rungs, the only sound I could hear above my heavy breathing was the clink and snap as each clip was removed and replaced. It was surprisingly calm this evening, the sun not quite finished slipping below the horizon. It was late August, so the temperature was still somewhere in the 70s this time of day. The backpack on my back seemed to get heavier and heavier the higher we went. I could feel the straps digging into my shoulders and trying to tip me over backwards. This bag was far too big for what I was doing, but I needed some way to bring a sleeping bag and blanket up. Finally, my hand left the last rung and found the top of the steel platform. I unclipped from the last rung and snapped on to the hand rail that went around the outside edge before I reached down to take Jamie’s hand.
     “Thank you sir,” she said, “I see chivalry is not dead.” Her hand brushed a few loose strands of long blonde hair out of her face as she stood upright next to me, looking out over the edge.
     “Ok, you were right. This is worth it.” She said in a matter of fact tone. I laughed softly.
     “This isn’t actually what we came for,” I said with a grin, “We aren’t done climbing yet. I just didn’t think you would actually come if I told you how far we were going. But the view is really nice here.”
     “You can’t be serious. I didn’t see anything going up any further.” She sounded rather incredulous.
     “We have to follow this platform around to the other side. There is a set of stairs going up to the very top. At least it isn’t another ladder.” I tried to sound confident, like it had already been decided that we would go on, but I couldn’t stop a tiny bit of a pleading tone from leaking in. I knew there was a small chance that she would want to stop here, but I also knew that going just a bit further would be completely worth it. I had scoped this tower out from the ground several times, using my trusty binoculars that I bargained for at a neighbor’s yard sale. When I discovered the stairs going up past the platform, I used an online satellite map to take a peek at the very top of the tower. From what I had been able to tell, at the very top there was a completely level platform, twelve to fifteen feet in diameter, with a secure looking rail around it. Amazing what a person can find online.
     My hope was to spend the night on that platform, hence the sleeping bag and blanket in my massive backpack. Tonight was supposed to be the brightest and most active meteor shower of the year in North America and the weather had decided to be kind to us star gazers, leaving a clear and cloudless sky for the evening. It would be perfect. Perfect if Jamie would go along with it, that is.
     “You are the worst kind of person,” she said. She wasn’t facing me so I couldn’t really tell how she felt about it. Finally she turned around and rolled her eyes. “Ohhhkaaaay. Let’s go. We’ve already gone this far.” She was used to situations like this. I was the one who always wanted to push the limits, go a little further, risk just a bit more, and she was the one who always asked me to reconsider and then went along with it anyway. I always felt bad for a little while, but I got over it pretty quick. It’s not like she didn’t know me well.
     “You are the best kind of person,” I said with a wink and a grin, “But let’s rest for a bit. My arms are tired now.” We sat down and I took off my backpack, setting it on the platform beside me, digging through a side pocket. I pulled out two bottles of water and a box of Poptarts.
     “Poptart?” I offered, “Snack of champions. All the professional water tower climbers eat them I heard.”
     “How are you not fat,” she replied, taking a delicious cherry snack from the silver wrapper. It wasn’t a question really, it was more a running joke between her and I about how much I should actually weigh. She’d usually joke that one day all the junk I eat would hit me at once and I would wake up weighing 400 pounds. Even though she joked, she wasn’t beyond being bitter about my eating habits since she worked hard to keep a perfect physique.
     Next I pulled out two plain white pieces of paper and handed one to her. I began folding mine delicately into the perfect paper airplane, using the flat section of the water tower for some of the more delicate creases.
     “I don’t know why I hang out with you. You are literally so freaking weird. Like who the hell would bring paper up the side of a water tower just to make a paper airplane.” She laughed even as she criticized. I knew she didn’t really mind. She had on multiple occasions told me that my “quirkiness” as she put it definitely made me more interesting to be around. I guess I was a little odd, but I didn’t really think that was a bad thing. I did what I thought to be amusing or entertaining. It wasn’t my fault the rest of the world didn’t seem to feel quite the same way about life.
     “In fifty years don’t you want to be able to set your grandchild on your lap and tell them all about the time you tossed a paper airplane off the side of a water tower? Grandkids don’t want to hear boring stories. I would know. I was a grandkid once.” Jamie just shook her head with a grin and started folding her airplane. Mine was finished and ready to be launched into the great unknown.
     “This is Air Farce One to ground station Loser, requesting permission to take off.” I did my best Top Gun impression, trying to remember how cool Tom Cruise sounded when he said it.
     “This is ground station Awesome to Air Farce One. Ground station Loser could not be located but we can go ahead and give you permission to launch. Have a nice flight.” Jamie still had at least a little bit of a child left in her. I tossed my paper airplane over the side, watching it glide several hundred yards before landing in the low branches of a tree. Mission complete.
     “What perfect throwing form you have,” Jamie said sarcastically, "You were probably one of those nerds who just made paper airplanes in class all day as a kid." Ouch. Yea, that had been me. Jamie wound up and threw her airplane with all her strength. She had made more of a dart than a glider and it flew fast, eventually landing in a tree considerably further than mine had.
     “You win this round,” I said with mock disgust, only barely able to hide a smile, “Let’s keep going.” I removed my clips from the rail and began walking along the platform. The bulb at the top of the tower was much bigger than it looked from the ground. I could just imagine the thousands of gallons of water above and beside me.
     Eventually we reached the stairs. It was nice of the designers to have taken pity on the poor inspectors who had to climb this far up. A ladder going around the outside of the bulb would have been terrifying. The stairs curling around the side felt much more secure. Reaching the top, there was a narrow platform leading from the edge of the bulb where the stairs ended to the flat space in the center of the tower. There was only a handrail on the left side so Jamie and I were sure to snap our harnesses on. The sun had almost fully set by now, the last tendrils of light just enough to see by as we made our way to the center.
     “Okay this is cool. You know what we should have done? We totally should have brought an air mattress up here and slept or something,” Jamie thought aloud. “I’ll bet the stars look amazing from here. Oh and look you can already see the city lights over there!” I loved seeing her excited. She would take one hand and play with her hair while the other would point at things. It was kind of weird when I thought about it, how she always pointed at things when she was excited. But that was just Jamie being Jamie.
     “You read my mind.” I pulled the sleeping bag and blanket out of the backpack and laid them on the flat steel. I probably should have realized how cold that steel was going to be. Oh well.
     “We are so in sync right now,” Jamie laughed. “This is awesome. You were right.”
     “Wait so what did you think was in the bag?” I asked. She hadn’t mentioned it before and I never said anything about it.
     “Honestly I thought it was a parachute or some **** and you were going to try jumping off the edge,” she laughed, “I would have tried to stop you but I decided I really won’t feel guilty when you die doing something stupid.”
     “Brilliant!” I exclaimed, “I am so going to try that next time!” I wouldn’t really. I liked doing risky things, but I wasn’t suicidal. We spent the next few minutes getting the sleeping bag and blanket situated. I loved the fact that Jamie could be spontaneous sometimes and that she was totally okay with just camping out on top of a random water tower on a Wednesday night. How many people in the world would have been okay with that? I was lucky to have her as a friend.
     We had everything settled by the time darkness fell completely. The climbing harnesses had been stuffed into the backpack and the backpack had been strapped to the railing on the side of the platform. With the sleeping bag laid completely open, there was still at least five or six feet of open platform on all sides of us. It felt secure enough.
     “I also forgot to mention that tonight is a huge meteor shower.” Jamie and I were on our backs, looking up at the infinite blackness.
     “I love shooting stars.” She said softly. Her eyes were wide and I could see her making fake mustaches out of her hair. She had kicked off her shoes and socks and was wiggling her toes in the night air. There was only a sliver of moon, just bright enough that I could see the glow of it on her cheeks.
     “It makes me feel small,” Jamie whispered, “I feel like that should bother me, feeling small, but it doesn’t. It’s weird because it’s almost comforting to me. Here I am, this tiny speck of dust, floating around on a larger speck of dust in the middle of infinity.” She wasn’t usually one to enjoy philosophy, but on the rare occasions she spoke like that, her point of view and opinions usually inspired me. She had a beautiful mind. She just didn’t often care to open up and share it like this.
“It makes me feel like it can’t all be an accident. Some people say that we got here through a series of random and fortunate events, that there is no great plan or design. But I just don’t see how that can be. How can mere chance create something like this? Of all the possibilities, of the infinite infinite possibilities, I just can’t believe that people, that you and I or anyone else were put here by accident. I don’t think that life could be an accident.” She spoke softly the whole time. Her voice never raised or quickened. Words seemed to flow forth effortlessly, as if this all were prepared and practiced. She was able to speak without doubt or hesitation, with such certainty that even the greatest cynic might have stopped to listen.
     She continued on, weaving words as though spells, playing ideas as though harp strings. She talked about her life, telling me things she never had before, teaching me things even I didn’t know. Jamie didn’t seem to be Jamie for the next while. Instead, she seemed to have become a font of wisdom, ideas, and genius. At least, that is how I saw her. She was able to take a single idea, and examine it from all perspectives. It was as though she held it in her palm, slowly rotating it to peer closer. She made connections that I had never thought of, inspiring me to think even deeper, loving the moment. All the while she lay there, watching the stars, wiggling her toes, and making pretend mustaches out of that long blonde hair. Eventually, she turned silent.
     “But what if it is an accident?” I said. My voice was unusually soft. “What if it was all an accident? What if there is no plan, no fate, and no reason for anything? What if there is no beginning or end and we are just insignificant bits of space dust? The idea of it not being an accident just seems so conveniently comforting, almost too convenient.” Jamie was silent after I finished. My heart was beating fast and my mind was alive. I didn’t feel close to being tired.
     “So what if it is,” she said eventually, “What difference does it make? Even if it is all an accident. Even if there is no meaning to life at all, it seems like a beautiful accident to me. Here we are, you and I, able to share this with each other. That seems like a beautiful accident to me. Here is this great big world, all the adventure, all the excitement, and all the love that it is filled with. That seems like a beautiful accident to me. Here is this infinitely huge sky, filled with stars that are incomprehensibly far away. If this is all an accident, it is the most beautiful I can imagine.” She paused for a while longer. “I feel that whatever you believe, it doesn’t really matter. Perhaps you believe there is a supreme design and plan, or maybe you believe that life is an accident filled with chaos. It doesn’t matter. We all live in the same world. We all see the same beautiful sights, we are surrounded by it. It is only our perception of it that differs. I choose to believe that such an incredibly beautiful world cannot be an accident.”
     I was quiet for a long time. Jamie had, for all intents and purposes, rocked my world. Hers was a perspective I had never thought of before. I, who believed I had thought it through from every angle. I, who believed myself smarter than the world. I realized then, at that moment, laying on the top of a water tower in late August watching a meteor shower, that maybe I was not a genius. Maybe I did not have the world figured out like I had believed. Maybe, just maybe, I was just a cynic; a cynic blinded by the misfortunes I had seen and suffered; a cynic disappointed in a world that had not treated me well.
     Jamie took my hand in hers, interlocking her slender fingers within my larger ones. She turned her head to the side and looked at me, still sporting a fake mustache. The sliver of moon was reflected in her eyes just so that I could not really look into them. Her lips were curled into just the slightes
Does it really matter whether or not this world,
Is made from some divine blueprint?
What beauty is lost in either idea?
It doesn't matter if this is an accident.

Excerpt from my book of short stories, Fictional Truth.

— The End —