24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I had a friend
who used to say
that sleep is for the weak.
I guess I’m strong,
as it never comes
easily to me,
even when it should.
It’s a guest that’s
often easy to avoid
and never catches me
off guard.
Today I hope
for dreamless sleep,
for only then
I truly rest.
As dreams are often
quite alive
and full of colour
in my nights.
Sleep
Lords of slumber, you fascinate me
You mesmerize me
How does one create worlds beyond understanding?
You mystify me
Lords of slumber, you bewilder minds notwithstanding
You let me dream
And escape to worlds that gleam
There once was a writer named Holly
Whose verses were normally jolly.
Until one day she went 24 hours without sleep;
And all her words made her weep.
With the last words she typed, “I’m going to bed, by golly!”
You make me think
You make me wonder
You make me question
You make me seek the answer
Paolo Coelho,
You are the inspiration
I was seeking
Now that you’re here
My mind’s a widening
Through narrow creeks
and streams aligning
You point the way
but leave me yearning
I always count on you to say the dangerous
thing, the true thing, about Dick Cheney or
global warming, and damn if you didn’t do it
again, calling out Bruce Jenner for making
himself into a facsimile woman, practically
a Kardashian. I know you, Annie, and I
know you didn’t mean to be unloving to
Caitlyn or anyone else, but that you were
doing that thing we all do from time to
time, making Jesus drink himself to
sleep, or want to. We all embarrass
God when we open our mouths and
“the monkeys fly out,” as Zora Neale
Hurston would say. The monkeys fly when
we get it wrong, when we aren’t truthful,
when we aren’t worthy of ourselves,
let alone Jesus. I’m glad you’ve apologized,
not just to Caitlyn, but to all transgender
people, and their parents, and neighbors,
and teachers, and lovers, and friends. I’m glad
Sam’s got your back on this, telling us his mom’s
pretty clueless about trans stuff, but she’s still
his mom. And you’re still my fave, so get back
to work. Somebody loves us all.
It’s been such a long day I need some rest, my thoughts are mangled and my eyes are heavy
I hit my bed so cosy so warm, l fluff my pillow to lay my head on, maybe I will dream, with hopes it’s not deadly
I’m asleep Im at pece and at rest
This is time of day is the one I like best
The pressure is off the light switch is too
The aches and pains when I sleep are this is so true
The best part about sleeping is I get to snuggle with you in my arms
Now let’s get some sleep because it won’t be long until we hear the alarms
Dreams are the imagery of what we long for,
neural playground for the literary soul, to wander,
with flashes of memory, their fabric ripped and
slurried, run with others, to rise dripping with thought
and vividly there. Ripped and wrenched, stirred
in the vat of short-term memory, dislodged from
common sense. Shaken, melded, fibers rearranged
to both nonsensical and realistic themes.
You and I astride some great behemoth,
talking of pashas and rainfall,
the taste of what we wanted, the feel of hands on,
of legs, of us becoming in the brief neural flicker
twin stars which never fade in that brief immortality.
Been to a festival lately?
Forget the main attractions
No one is there for the music
It’s all about the bacon
There was a time when it could be ignored
Now, bacon is in your face!
In your artisan beer
In your candy
In your ice cream
In your tater tots
I’m sure someone somewhere has created a bacon flavored soda
or, *shudder*, coffee!
It may even be in your music
In fact, I’m convinced, bacon and Taylor Swift have the same publicist
They are both everywhere all the time.
Beware the Bacon Swift Burger
Are you my friend or enemy?
An ally or a foe?
Are dreams and nightmares messages,
Or warnings, or random, I don’t know.
Fears and feelings given form,
Beauty and pain and rage and joy.
Promises, hope, and I have no choice.
Must sleep, I can’t avoid.