"unsleeping" poems
An idiot is harmless,
Until that idiot falls in love,
Then they’re willing to do anything,
For the person they’re in awe of.
Whether its building a new world,
Or burning the old one down,
They’ll stop at nothing,
To give their love a crown.
Now if that love fades,
And they are left weeping,
They could take one of two paths,
Both will leave an empty heart unsleeping.
Path one is war and rampage,
Destroy everything in their way,
Path two is depression and tears,
They may cause their own doomsday.
Either way an idiot is harmless,
Until that idiot falls in love,
And if you happen to cross that idiot,
Beware for they do not care, they are deprived of---------
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 3:02 AM UTC
Edain came out of Midhir's hill, and lay
Beside young Aengus in his tower of glass,
Where time is drowned in odour-laden winds
And Druid moons, and murmuring of boughs,
And sleepy boughs, and boughs where apples made
Of opal and ruhy and pale chrysolite
Awake unsleeping fires; and wove seven strings,
Sweet with all music, out of his long hair,
Because her hands had been made wild by love.
When Midhir's wife had changed her to a fly,
He made a harp with Druid apple-wood
That she among her winds might know he wept;
And from that hour he has watched over none
But faithful lovers.
1.9k
Edain came out of Midhir's hill, and lay
Beside young Aengus in his tower of glass,
Where time is drowned in odour-laden winds
And Druid moons, and murmuring of boughs,
And sleepy boughs, and boughs where apples made
Of opal and ruhy and pale chrysolite
Awake unsleeping fires; and wove seven strings,
Sweet with all music, out of his long hair,
Because her hands had been made wild by love.
When Midhir's wife had changed her to a fly,
He made a harp with Druid apple-wood
That she among her winds might know he wept;
And from that hour he has watched over none
But faithful lovers.
1.9k
"I believed I was right," he says,
then leaves.
Not escorted by guards -
no cuffs in sight. Free
to make his next after-dinner speech
and pick up the fee.
Some may complain, protest
that this dog, unsleeping, may not lie
but others think "He did what he thought best,
"God knows, there's too little faith these days!"
Say it was politic.
Say it was a compromise,
the lesser evil.
Say even that it was unwise.
Admit that one man
cannot feel so many deaths
and so should not try.
But do not fly like a flag
a security of faith,
a surety of right
that ***** a nation
condemning
countless
howling
thousands
to a voiceless end.
If you still cannot see
that you might have been wrong
then you are unfit
to call yourself
human.
Feb 25, 2011
Feb 25, 2011 at 9:34 AM UTC
(for Glynn)
Singing breeze
Singing breeze
Carrying nothing
Kissed by sunlight
Carry my wishes
Scatter my troubles
Leave the grey highway
Slip through the forest
Birch and pine
Needle and catkin
Shutting the sky out
Speckles of sunlight
Evening sky
How many colours
How many colours
Woodsmoke and silence
Unsleeping river
Silence and river
Wanting to share this
Beautifully lonely
Only I saw it
Only I held it
Stop this stone rolling
Let the moss gather
Living as leaf-fall
Living as boulder
Keener than snowmelt
Fuller than August
Cradle of tree roots
Mantle of mountain
Granite horizon
Breezes will soothe you
Whispering breezes
Will you be listening
Do you hear singing
Do you hear forests
Apr 1, 2011
Apr 1, 2011 at 11:20 AM UTC
Alley ways and alley cats all allies in the darkest nights.
Unsleeping children call to their mother's closest hand.
The alley cats are chorusing, looking for a lover.
Their kittens come their kittens go, in and out their pussycat minds.
The infant in the cradle cries out for mother's love.
A life long attachment borne.
Forever days and never nights, the lights go out the queen cat cries.
Another litter of kittens wanted so that queen cat yowls.
The husband laying in his bed, gets angry as he lays his head, calling cats and screaming kids, prevent the closing of his lids.
The child calls out as only he can, mother moved to sort him out, as only mother can.
(C) LIVVI
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 7:02 AM UTC
That jazzy voice you handle from your lips
Is to be handled carefully. Well, it happened already
You took away every bit of somnolence from me
Suddenly emptied me, left me as a cunning child
Naughty enough to deprive himself of a night lavish with dreams,
To escape the sleep routine under the bed sheets.
And then your phonecall,
Breaking fragile silence like a hammer smashing glass,
I followed you beyond the ringing,
Discovered a trembling annoying voice.
You crafty devil, you planned my unsleeping all along,
Filling my ear with problems of all kinds and sorts
And the endless unsatisfactions of a life you never lived as yours.
So tired as hell, the phone hitting the wall,
Your voice remains, some sort of restlessness
Invades me and keeps me going all night long.
I shave, I’ve got but two hours before all cuts are healed
I put my sleep back together
Shard by shard,
Rebuild its slow glassy reflection.
My sleep is after all
A mirror which doesn’t often work.
The daylight knocks already
The nighttime fades behind me
No sleep tonight for poor devils or for me,
No sleep tonight at all.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 4:35 PM UTC
Do you see the lights when they glister over a quiet sea? Do you understand the snow’s twilight? Like this are the hearts of the unsleeping physician. They stand like trees but instead of leaves there are patients' faces and instead of chanting birds there are beating hearts. In that warm space, you see the flowers with colored wishes and merciful hands. There, you can touch the infinite warmth’s essence with worry eyes and hot pulses.
Instead of metaphors, the physician surprising innovation is the melodic compassion. He catches the remote lands valleys and from that magic universe, he brings a smooth management like a poet.
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 11:44 PM UTC
spring. it's almost unsleeping
and stubbornly worn with
young feet in all her little parks
and her grassy and gluttonous
new flowers uncouple their
fragrant heads bumbling
a savage and stemmed arcuate
light that tumbles out the swaggering
mouths of upended winter.
the small and creviced
the hardy chapels of wood
and plastic and nails and wire
will burp to some agile fleece
some women and boys
into the delicious war of
new uncaking roses or the fine **********
that is this tide of bubbling heat
gnarling at the pale and loveless moon
who also is a *****
that plasters every skin with her lipsandfingers
she,TheSpring, will splay her plaintive thighs
and in their between, will march the strong
weak column of undead flesh
who are men and girls
and they will love her
the freckled empire of her *******
the fortress of her smooth impossible belly
the unquestionable meter of her hips
and they will climb her naked ribs
with hands of innocent foolhardy clasping
to the magistrate of her tongue
the holy orifice she wears at the between of her cool cheeks
and smatter on it
grossly ardent spit
Mar 4, 2011
Mar 4, 2011 at 11:18 AM UTC
There is some type of earthly heaven that I've proceeded to find
That seems to show itself to me each time that you pass by
Whether it be the holy glow from the skin which this sun does grace
Or the simple fact that you send me to unknown heights with the smile on your face
And in my search for this earthly heaven, I've found you are the key
From your mouth I hear the sound of the angel's symphonies
I see the light unmatched in sheen that shines brighter than the skies
I search and easily find the gates of gold whenever you look me in the eyes
And those angels fly in and out of my head as I'm mesmerized by this
I long for heaven, I long for it so, give it to me in your kiss
My tongue is still, my ears hear only you, but my eye, oh, my eyes are vigilant
Seeing what wonder you allow me to see before my inevitable descent
And with that passing, you're gone again and heaven is out of my reach
Leaving me stumbling in this world with whatever lesson it falied to teach
I know this emptiness, this curiosity, this longing will stay until you return
The place where your hand touched my arms burns for you all the more
I fall and the earth meets me, pushing the breath from my lungs
Making my mind come to the conclusion as reality's bell has been rung
And so I find my search shall continue until I find you again
And with each unsleeping moment in me, I will wait for you 'round the bend
And the words of wisdom creep in my mind and oh what truths they tell
For in finding heaven on earth and losing it, I draw closer to hell
Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 11:01 AM UTC
there was drooping violet
spate generally on the still noble sky
by who ridiculous punctuation slammed
unsleeping winds all about this lean laughing
hound of plural singulars bounding intaglio rivulets
slightly rosy chunks of love
and love was
punching gradually
every lips
and lightly whorish
bruises slapped the pavements
by the
B!r.Ea k I,N;g' surf
Oct 16, 2010
Oct 16, 2010 at 10:53 AM UTC
look at us
dreaming, unsleeping.
Vibrant broken, ever-enlightening youth.
Singing dirges as if we knew the dead,
as if we had no friends.
Shower me with your wisdom,
your ever widening meaning.
Like this fractured mentality wasn't what the world was reaching for.
Pushed past the point of no return,
came back full circle.
maybe this time we'll find an end
or maybe we can meet again at the middle.
Wherever whispers ruled,
that's where I'll love you.
Wherever fear befriended those who stood unoffended, who reached
for something.
Who understood the currencies of blood,
of screaming into the wind;
of challenging the world to **** you harder.
That's where I'll always love you.
My benign chaos.
My finest rage
my purest angst,
my greatest sadness,
my only meaning.
You can't feel unless someone tells you that you're feeling.
When I grow up I don't want to:
I told you I'd wait by the window, all I ever wanted was forever.
I'll never close it, never.
Here, in this sadness, in this panic that what we feel will last forever?
that's where I'll always love you,
forgive you,
wait for you.
dear peter.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 1:51 AM UTC
Liquid memories
seeping.
Your voice, your smile,
weeping.
Thoughts like movies,
creeping.
Pains of heartache,
leaping.
Vanished, breathless,
unsleeping.
Reaper's hands--greedy,
keeping.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 2:20 PM UTC
I never cry at midnight.
It's still too close to the drama of the day,
To doing, to being, facts, routine and acts.
Dreams are waiting, whispering,
Timidly sending out tendrils,
Tears remain untempted; this is not their time.
Near dawn, and only sometimes,
Sobs shake my unsleeping soul.
The things, the thoughts, that feed on salt, descend,
I walk a tightrope between night and day, begin and end,
I come so close to falling, and one day
I will just let go.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 2:26 PM UTC
I'm scared to sleep
because in my dreams,
we will still be together,
I'll not want to wake up
and you wanted me to
Live.
May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 3:12 PM UTC
i've some power fingers terribly monstrous
knuckle deep in
hair too,thickhair
in bunched fist
strung tighter
pulling
pullling tighter(and from where parts
monsters powerfully
)
wait instantly unsleeping
at a little slick with spit
lips between lips barely
teeth press and press and
monsters (unsleeping instantly)
ReleaseD
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 3:14 AM UTC
someone asks me for help with work,
and there is a rush of relief:
if they need help, then my body will stay awake, unsleeping.
we talk ourselves into the night,
and i am pleased—
this way i am not left to my own desires.
come evening i am called to eat,
and this is good, because, you see,
this way my body is made to move,
dragged off the couch, out of bed,
and forced to live.
i know how it works,
that old proverb, see:
they say that if i just get up from the bed
the world will seem brighter to me,
but oh,
how difficult it seems as well,
and the mere idea— how cold.
even the too-bright lights of my bedroom are dull to me,
but i know, i know—
if i just get out of bed,
all may be well again.
and there is a gratefulness for this,
somewhere,
perhaps small but existing anyway—
it is nice,
somehow,
to be kept alive;
these little tedious tasks
that none are free from.
i sigh,
hug the pillows through a shudder,
and rise from the covers.
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 1:38 PM UTC
.
Grateful to the skies
And the darkest nights,
To the moon and stars
That are my night’s lights.
Morning and the Mosques
That wake me unsleeping,
When hopes of new victories
Upon me are awakening.
Through these empyrean gardens
Where black gold is flowing,
No wicked thoughts are growing.
No sadness and hunger,
Resentment and pain,
Here, one can love again.
In the warm desert
Thirsting for love.
Grateful my life,
To the blue infinity of freedom
To the Sun that shines the light
That gilts the sands with golden flames
And the Sea that hums a lullaby
Whose waters rise and fall with tide.
Drown the troubles, surface blessedness,
Here, where every cry diminishes.
Grateful to the Nature, Earth and Water
For the yields,
Sweet fruits,
Bees on flowers,
Honeyed lips,
Coconut in the palms of my hands
And the wild beasts
That emboldened me.
The compassionate
And the charitable.
To the seed of men,
Mothers that birth
Children that warm our hearts
And the old that leave this Earth,
And the snakes that devour the pests,
And the bird that on your shoulder rests,
And a camel that winks with her eye,
That knows how to smile.
So rejoice,
now and not tomorrow.
Rejoice.
May the world be as such,
Life a song without a wail
Serene like a fairytale.
Saša Milivojev
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 2:24 AM UTC
.
In this century withal
Rivers of blood still flow
Bombs echo
Children are being killed
Heads are being severed
Millions are starving
Diseases are devouring
And you are singing
The gallows are trembling
In the valley of the fallen
In the salty tears
With our putrescent sores
We fall prey to the crows
Our festering entrails
For the starving wolves
A shattered house
Little boy is weeping
Over the body of his Father
That forever now is sleeping
Schools Temples and bridges bleeding
bloodstained wedding guests are screaming
Little white coffins
Maternal howls
Above Uranus
Hear the painful growls
Delirious poets are prattling
And not a word are you uttering
They blinded you
When they ***** your daughter
Strangled ‘er with the wire
They abducted your brothers
Tortured in the cellar
Shattered their fingers
With ferrous clubs
With a saw agape their skulls
Their legs wagons lacerated
Their limbs with machete dissected
Flayed the skin of their backs
Dumpers of corpses
Bulldozers to the grave consigned
Roads run over their bones in cement confined
Bodies filled the bottomless well over the brim
Come closer
Look within
The infinite darkness of the abyss
To hear the silence of the universe
A spark is glistening in an innocent eye
Children are helplessly falling to the dust
Venomous saliva dripping from their mouth
As their rosy intumescent faces bust
In their closing prayer
Reverends to a cross immured
Laughing at the stake they burned
Tender ivory cherubs
Flew away like a flock of birds
Rip my heart out from my chest
As I am unsleeping
May your golden ship catch wind away from shore
To raise your glass of blood once more
As you feast your eyes in silence
Saša Milivojev
Translated by Ljubica Yentl Tinska
Oct 21, 2019
Oct 21, 2019 at 2:09 AM UTC
A loud mind
pierces all the calm
of the silent 4am
The angel of sleep
is on a sabbatical day
Dec 7, 2020
Dec 7, 2020 at 4:22 PM UTC
Late night jazz obsession
Surfing on mellow beams
Long unsleeping session
Driving me into dreams
Old record spin and hiss
Immortal tunes of yore
Ressurect days of bliss
Tonight and evermore
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 4:55 AM UTC