"somnambulism" poems
*As ***** as a three balled tomcat
Very *****
Very full of ****** desire*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You can fake that loud sound during ***
However, no need to fake that sound
With your first meal of the day
Oh so yummy! Oh, so hungry for that touch
So here I am as ***** as a three balled tomcat
What if everything were revealed about my whereabouts
Especially last night, was I somnambulism?
It’s time to get myself together. I was all over the place
I have to channel my energy today into something useful;
I have to stay soulful, I have to stay focused
I might be a night walker
However, If a man awakes the sleeping tigress within
He better be ready to calm its wicked, wicked ways
A woman isn’t complete without the
Amen, hallelujah, thank be to glory moments
As she reaches the maximum of her
Amazing, mind and body-blowing experience
I have to challenge them… did I lose my self-respect?
My midnight blue satin dress
Someone said that it’s a wicked, wicked tease
I know that it controls my every mood
Staying ahead of the curves, surveying the scenery
Swaying down the Avenue living dangerously
Down where the palm trees sway against the breeze
Here I am as ***** as a three balled tomcat.
but I can surely make the bad boys good for the weekend
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 8:59 AM UTC
Day-dreams and Night-dreams
Work as well as wet-dreams.
We need be alert,
Be awakened from our sleep-walking passivity.
Arise.
Pick-up ourselves,
And be woke with humanity;
Rub away the sleep in our eyes.
Jan 8, 2022
Jan 8, 2022 at 11:41 AM UTC
the time spent hoping
for rain has been futile.
With each minute passing
second hand tumble our
memories become reduced
to questions, so as I’m
waking up in taxi cabs
wondering where the sky
went, I’ll think of your
lips ******* cancer and
your fingers holding
your future like a
crystal ball fortune
gypsy screaming “these
coming days will be
hard! Your lungs will
collapse and your heart
will turn to stone!”
But you smile and cough
and I imagine you
crying when I say
there is nowhere to go
from here. And now the
taxi man is demanding
a location, but I only
can give him snapshots
with sun-faded ink
cursive and he kicks me
out so I walk home
and try to sleep and
in the morning I forgot
what I did and who I
saw so I didn’t even bother
saying goodbye
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 8:58 PM UTC
Before I lay me down to sleep...
tonight, I will shower,
brush my teeth
and say my prayers...
but one day
someone will do
these things for me
once, and no more.
Somnambulism will come to me,
my estranged Sacagawea
******** and blind,
riding a pale nightmare,
her hair a wheat field of ******
together we shall adventure
the ruins of mist and shadow.
Tomorrow morning,
I will wash the night from my flesh;
remove the rust from my eyes,
brush away her kiss from my mouth
and but for a moment remember
the feel of earthworms in my skull.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 4:21 PM UTC
I've this bad habit of going to sleep fully clothed,
then waking up completely naked.
Not knowing for sure what happened in between.
How many of these things that I can barely remember ever actually happened?
How many were just dreams?
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 5:06 AM UTC
They try to ****** you,
reduce you
to quivering mountains of jelly.
(well we won't have that,will we?)
While we're picking up dog ends
looking up our rear ends
they're
sending their sprogs off to Harrow and Eton
making more running dogs,
they think that we're beaten.
On the street where I live,half
of the residents don't live at all,
they vegetate,
a form of somnambulism,
some kind of mistake because the other half
don't give a frig,
this is the gig,this is the play
if you're happy or not they don't care,anyway,
they won't ****** me,
I am cardboard citizen and free,
under the rainbow and off the grid,
still got to bid on a house or a flat
and that's the way of it.
You try and you think that you're free but
you're numbered and name tagged and put in the queue
and all you can do then
is dream of a time when
freedom means freedom and not
medieval serfdom.
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 8:11 AM UTC
What if everything
Were revealed: about my whereabouts
Especially last night:
Was I somnambulism?
It time to get myself together,
I was all over the place
I have to channel my energies into something useful
I have to stay soulful
I have to stay focus
I am not a night walker.
But a vampire.
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 5:26 AM UTC
words from a conversation we had days ago echo in my mind turning into a lullaby, softly coaxing my eyelids shut. welcoming deep sleep to my weary heart.
each part of our souls intertwine to create a perfect panoply facilitated by the moon.
you and i under the same sky, all of a sudden the displeasures from the day before slowly melt away into the dark nighttime.
in the syzygy of our cosmic hearts we bask in the ethereal glow encompassed comfortably by the stars and moons.
involved in a state of a constant somnambulism so i never have leave the blissful reality conceived in my subconscious.
dreamers indulgence, walking hand in hand, free and filled with halcyon in the safety of sleep.
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 9:55 AM UTC
Sweet Morpheus greeted me
On the grand patch of risen grass.
I lie down for a nap
Feeling vitality seeping through the dew
Which kisses the blades
Every morning and night.
The cirrocumulus and their kind
Casually flocking in the sky
I see the shapes in their crevices-
Reminiscent of something playful.
I put my ear against the earth
Not really listening,
Flecks of soil graze my face
Like a massive comb
Grooming softly
With tickling sensation.
Suddenly,
A crackle heard from the distance.
A dynamite? A firework?
A flash of lightening aimed specific?
I do not know.
I do not know.
I throw my hands towards the clouds
Soliciting them to take me away,
Lift me up to join their somnambulism
Above the ground
Detached
Like sleep paralysis.
From up here,
Everything seems nice
Because it is not vivid
Nor intimate enough
For concrete judgement.
This makes it easy to romanticise.
Reality is surreal
Surreal is happening,
Set me down in my nest on a plane of human existence
I’ll sleep through the evening
Through the noon
And the screaming
I’ll imagine
It’s something I don’t have the power
To stop.
I’ll pretend
It’s the music
That powers the rain.
I’ll escape with the stratus
Dreaming
I was in a position
To make a difference.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 5:53 AM UTC
Once upon a time
I am a sleep walker
Somnambulism was
my daily routine
Jogging in the room
With no sense
Everyone who stayed
With me had a wild
Experience
They gonna tell me
The other day about this
Finally I got remedy
I just spell this words
Every night
"No sleep walk baby boy
Don't let this happen again"
Now I am free from
This Sleep walk
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 10:58 PM UTC
Every time I see you
you look away.
If I find out who it is
Ill get rid of it
It´s not that I care
but I do
It´s not that I love you
but I do
I cannot bear his eyes
his smell,
I won´t any more
it will be done
You blush
Your ***** heart stops
bruxism of the soul
life gets torn
I wake up in your lap
filled with regret
covered in saline drops
your smile makes me right
I found it in my hand
cant do it no more
refrain from cheating again
please no more
please no more
Mar 6, 2012
Mar 6, 2012 at 9:32 PM UTC
Things that might be keeping me awake,
These tiring nights
Hypnotic dreams making connections,
Way beyond my comprehension.
Are they meant to keep you on your path?
Or grow out of it and fly above the clouds?
An illusion of control?
Or a way to fulfil your soul?
Perplexed at those vivid pictures,
Of places and people left behind
Maybe sometimes just stuck in your mind,
Turning me into a beast of burden.
Wake up from my somnambulism
To find me back in bed
With sunken eyes, holding my head
No meaning to this pretence.
A lullaby went wrong,
A state of trance
A voice inside my head,
Speaking to me like I still had a chance.
'I know you know your pain,
Here's a ticket to hop on that train
The path is treacherous with mist all around,
But have faith, you are heaven bound'
Till the morning comes and the sun is shining bright
Still tied up in my fictitious knots,
I wake up from the slumber
Realizing it's not up to me to join the dots.
Was never great at reading signs
Been living with these feelings somehow,
At the end of the tunnel, there's a light that shines
Time to face the music now.
Oct 21, 2020
Oct 21, 2020 at 3:37 AM UTC
There's an immense pit.
I'm finding myself drawn in,
by it's magnetic attraction.
I creep silently,
almost furtively,
out of the hobbit hole,
the one in which, I'm currently hiding,
it's a small green one,
with an old wooden door.
veer off to the left
I notice those shadows,
in a half asleep state,
somnambulism so I'm told.
In my drowsy head voices whisper,
"Halt", who goes there?
"Don't be scared,
it's just the light playing games".
It's all clear my dear."
Go on,
Push open the door,
it grates on the carpet.
Pull back the cover,
what do I find?
I find my one and only lover,
my only lover's my bed.
It's time to rest my sleepy head!
Night all !
(C) Livvi
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC
A lean, young peripatetic
Thinks slimness may be genetic.
Both father and son
Find sleepwalking fun,
Despite a pace that's frenetic.
Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 10:01 PM UTC
The weather shines.
The second day is the first
I opened my eyes out of time.
Get out of sleep.
There is always a vibration in
silence. The plants know
this well.
The old is new; the secret known.
Its is spagyric, transmogrified-
The collective individual worlds within
ourselves; I am one of you-
a nexus, a spirit, a universe now
together within our own models.
This is the depth.
Access immediately what
we did not know; we know
the time is calescent. Time
and time has come.
This is a small and urgent call.
It is eternal.
The music units are the segments
of my ears.
The time for waking up has come.
-Jesse Haydn
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 1:29 PM UTC
It is secret
In gloomy light .
I buried a grazer in pasture
I swept leaves for burning his grave
But I had captured by somnambulism
Firstly I entered in way of confession
There is a seed of god
It heard this bitter secret
After forty silent days a seed rose its head with arrogance
It revealed it
Dec 27, 2018
Dec 27, 2018 at 7:18 AM UTC
“ABRACADABRA. By abracadabra we signify an infinite number of things.‘Tis the answer to What? and How? and Why? And Whence? and Whither?—a word whereby The Truth (with the comfort it brings) Is open to all who ***** in night, Crying for Wisdom’s holy light. Whether the word is a verb or a noun Is knowledge beyond my reach.”
The time for waking up has come;
every second of the day is the first
time I have opened my eyes and
arise from a deep sleep.
There is always a vibration that exists
in the stillness. The plants know it well.
The ancient and known is new;
it is spagyric and transmogrified.
We are, collectively, individual worlds
inside our own selves.
I am one and We are One-
one Nexus, one Soul, one Universe
existing now, together
inside of our own separate forms.
It is the precipice.
The moment is arriving for
what we know not; We know
the time is calescent-
the time is now and the time is coming.
The calling is urgent
and it is eternal.
The triangle rings music in my ears.
The time for waking up has come.
–Jesse Haydn
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 1:33 PM UTC