Lawrence Sharp Poet Free verse

The Small Hours

A devilish internal unknown truth,
unannounced, abruptly screamed
in or near my unprepared ear
may have been compelled
to cleave early morning's torpor
into two whimpering halves.
Sometimes it has been precisley that.
And sometimes it's only
an innocent cacophony of fighting cats.
Usually it's not even that.
More often than not
it's no more than an awkward silence
between my marrow and the dark.
But there's usually something.
In the couple of hours
before the righteous alarm sounds,
I wake before I should wake.
And in these long moments,
two hours, maybe more,
I am resentfully at one with the light.
The words, the deeds,
the maniacal designs,
all make the world of sense,
and perhaps even sense of the world.
As if to make a mockery
of my comfort and warmth,
invariably I'm permitted to fade
just half a moment
before the righteous alarm sounds.
Then the righteous alarm sounds,
and cleaves early morning's surety
into two contrite halves.
By the time I step out of the shower,
the words, the deeds,
the maniacal designs
have retreated to the bedside drawer.
It is then and there
that my loudest absurdities
sheepishly ebb and die. 

24th July 2018

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Kai Michael Neumann August 4, 2018 at 5:22 AM I like this vivid description of insomnia. Particularly how you describe the world of sense and the sense (?) of world. The conclusion in the last seven lines is brilliant. Many wishes, Kai PS: sleep well when you can. Lawrence Sharp August 4, 2018 at 7:51 AM Thanks Kai, good feedback always valued. I usually sleep fine... until somewhere between 2:30 and 3:00 !

Richard Lamoureux July 28, 2018 at 8:11 AM My wife woke up screaming because of a charlie horse at 3am this morning.I couldn’t go back to sleep because my mind started spinning with all the things I need to do today. What a perfect time to read this one.:0) Lawrence Sharp July 28, 2018 at 10:03 AM We suffer together.

Caren Krutsinger July 25, 2018 at 12:04 AM I think this poem is marvelous; because it nails the feeling of "you are kidding!" when the alarm sounds, and you have been fitfully trying to go back to sleep for two hours. Lawrence Sharp July 25, 2018 at 11:55 PM Thanks Caren, I'm glad you enjoyed.

Charmaine Chircop July 24, 2018 at 1:07 PM Oh your poem reminds me of those days in my childhood and teens..when I had plenty of sleepless nights..then in the early morning before the sun starts to rise..I used to start fading into the sweetest sleep..but darn..soon enough I would have to wake up for a whole day...It still happens nowadays ,but not oftenly...I can relate to this...I can live the night through your eyes. Charmaine Chircop July 25, 2018 at 7:58 AM When I was a kid I had a huge imagination..And yes ..I could see shadows on the wall..made by lamp lights reflections ofcourse..but somehow I used to be scared..I was terrified of thieves breaking in our house and hiding under the bed.Obviously,kids imagination.In my teens,it was different,I used to stay up reading or watchimg a movie.I never really liked the night so much..These past few years have been different..so exhausted from busy days,that I yearn for my sleep..and for m bed..Yet Still there are those occasional nights..when I get over-tired and wont close my eyes before early sunrise ..I must be wired in a strange way :)..Those night hours are the best for me to write..I must admit :) So not all that bad ..hehe. Lawrence Sharp July 24, 2018 at 11:54 PM Hey Charmaine, thanks for reading. Shared ghosts perhaps.