Long Fitful sleep Poems
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“ Affirmation without discipline is the beginning of delusion. Jim Rohn “
Relentlessly I pace around the room,
like a caged lion, dreaming of vast forests,
yearning for savannah grasslands,
vaguely remembered.
I fret for I feel inadequate,
still, I yearn despite the drudgery of life.
My thirst for you is insatiable,
always increasing though deluded,
as if I'm living in some devastating desert
where no fertile oasis thrives.
How can I enforce discipline? I cannot do it.
Night deepens and I yearn for the day.
Lying in bed I wonder
how much of all this I can take.
At last, my wife's home,
reeking of foul-smelling cigarettes,
reeling with too much drink,
dress soiled with what I dare not think.
She smiles at me, I freeze revolted.
Her kiss is blistering
as I wipe her saliva off,
I help her reluctantly
to her dark solitary cot.
How easy my fire is quenched!
All sweet song is muted. I despair.
How many wearisome nights are appointed to me?
That we should exist
when life is just like a passing wind,
it comes and goes, extinguished forever.
Till then, she and I are but chained,
each to his own devious devices.
Will I ever see joy again?
I retire to my fitful sleep
and dare to dream.
Perhaps one day.....
Who knows?
The newborn dawn is nigh,
its first rays are fresh and bright.
Yet, despite reality and delusion,
I dare to dream.
Placed 1st
And there the story might have ended
But the bite on Suzanne's thumb
Throbbed and became distended,
'I must say, I feel a little rum',
she said and lay down on her bed,
but as she fell asleep a patch of fur
started growing on her tum.
She slept a light and fitful sleep
Full of strange hypnotic dreams
in which she leapt from branch to branch,
speaking in a stuttering chattering scream.
When she awoke she felt warm and cosy,
her bad dreams had all gone away,
The clear bright light of dawn was rosy,
She was looking forward to the day.
But looking in the mirror her face turned a whiter shade of pale,
for now, coming from her lower back was a thick and bushy tail!
Her two front teeth were now so large they stuck out prominently,
And somehow she was not quite in charge of an urge to act, well, more rodently!
Now instead of inspiring her yoga class
With her incredibly flexible poses,
These days Suzanne is sure to be found
In the park, (only partly obscured by the roses),
Listening intently with her pointy ears for the sound of a poor unwary fella,
that sits down to munch on a nutritious lunch
of sandwiches filled with nutella.
For Cyril had imparted a terrible curse,
He was a ware squirrel you see, man,
and what is worse, his thumb biting curse,
had passed on his populist schtick,
and now she's a big Daily Mail fan!
In her throat comes a lump
at the mention of Donald J Trump,
And austerity, well now she's all for it, ha!,
Let the poor rot in hell,
And the disabled as well,
Katy Hopkins she follows on Twitter,
She's the chair of her local EDL group,
Since she abandoned her candles and crystals,
At night she culls badgers, just for fun, with a whoop,
And owns shares in a frack site near Bristol.
Could this be the end for our white witchy friend?
Can the curse of the ware squirrel be broken?
Fear not dear reader, there's light round the bend,
these few verses are merely a token,
Soon in hushed tones by crusty old crones of a miracle will it be spoken,
how Suzanne the fair, once cursed by a ware
Squirrel was magically spared from this sorry affair
by our old Jedi mate Oby Wan of Conorbyn,
for it 'twas by him that she was awoken.
Vitriol and darkly circumspect,
These desires they know no bounds.
Tender prey and inviting eyes-
I spare no expense in this cold lover’s stare.
Awaken some deeply buried sense of entitlement
When I tell you that I asked the spirits for you to arrive.
There is a part of your desire that fills me with doubt;
All dressed in silk and broken dreams
Calling my name in your fitful sleep.
Your words fall like memories in some vague translation
Of original thought into this cheap rendition.
Pull me close and whisper those precious lies-
You know the ones I’ve been trained to imbibe.
I hear my name spoken in the darkness
As you open the door and stroll towards the bed where I lie.
I am almost afraid until it comes to the forefront of my mind-
That you are the victim restrained by your own pride.
I open the door and in the darkness
I see you in the bed,
Like I have so many times before.
You look at me, your eyes sparkling with sensuality,
An inviting smile upon your lips.
Your arms are open wide and beckoning
For me to come find comfort in their warmth.
I undress and crawl into the bed, reaching out for you
But all I find are pillows.
I lie in the darkness trying to sleep,
But I am restless
With the memories of you.
This bed is too big and I am alone.
I lay the pillows next to me, as if you were there.
Maybe now I can sleep.
I need you. Here. Now.
But all I have are pillows.
I drift off into a fitful sleep
I hear your voice calling out to me.
I see your eyes and can taste your lips.
I reach out to touch your face -
But the image shatters!
Once again, I am awake.
Cold. Alone. In pain.
And all I have are Pillows.
The I-phone buzzes off and on all night.
An annoying sound, perils of playing multitude of word games.
Mostly scrabble, but others. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.
I turn it off, but the buzzing continues. In uneven intervals,
Not a pretty rhythm or sound.
My I-pad is a culprit now. It is now buzzing too.
How she linked up with my I-phone is only known to my husband
Who thought he was helping me.
The electronic age is becoming annoying now
As it is bothering my already fitful sleep.
I unplug everything, feeling like the master.
Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.
My nerves are becoming irritated.
I am thinking of tossing them both out the window.
In the dark of night, where dreams bear bloom,
and silence reigns in my shadowed room,
my pillow waits, serene, composed,
awaiting my sleepy head to doze.
Beneath my head it yields its form,
to cradle my crown from day’s storm,
and offer a sweet night’s repose,
yet pillow’s thoughts, who really knows?
She seems so sweet, pretends to care,
yet every night disturbs my hair,
and furthermore she gets so heated,
and once again my sleep is cheated,
by the pillow sweaty and hot,
yet the other side is simply not,
cool and perfect, waiting to bless,
my fevered brow with its caress,
and lull me back to sleepful bliss,
with its satin smooth cool kiss,
again I drift to snooze and sleep,
but pillow’s warmth begins to creep,
to wake me once again at night,
such a struggle, such a fight,
to turn again to the other side,
the cool oasis tries to hide,
but the pillow I will flip and turn,
for the cool side I do so yearn,
yet it defeats my every twist,
forgotten now how cool she kissed,
our affair becomes a struggle,
no longer does she like to snuggle,
instead a smothering suffocation,
to turn and flip without cessation,
throughout the night, hours endless,
once lovers, now friendless,
oh cool side, where can you be?
I need you now, can’t you see?
Aloof, apart she still remains,
my willpower slowly drains,
till fevered dreams draw me down,
and make of me once more her clown,
fitful sleep upon her breast,
though I get but little rest,
morning creeps with amber hue,
the night forgotten, as such things do,
and come again time for slumber,
pillow knows she has my number,
and beckons me come lie with her,
promising bliss, rapture, and more,
such a tease my mistress pillow,
I bend to her will just like a willow,
and find myself in her clutches cool,
I promise her this time not to drool.
Her funeral held earlier that day,
in her coffin she held her mobile phone,
she told him that she wanted it that way
and now he crept off up to bed alone.
He tossed and turned, his was a fitful sleep,
he dreamed of her, and things that might have been,
at midnight his phone gave a gentle beep
he looked and saw her name lit on the screen.
In disbelief, he read the message sent,
Just three words, 'I love you' in the text
how could this be? For this all made no sense
sleep left him now, he lay awake, perplexed.
His phone beeped at midnight on the next day
the same three words, same number, the same phone,
night after night repeated, so in dismay
powered off, into the bin it was thrown.
New phone, new number, that should be alright,
contacted all his friends to let them know
but his sound sleep was broken at midnight
two gentle beeps, the screen was now aglow.
Each night he agonised ' why must this be?
Inside his head, the seeds of doubt were sown
'our married life was happy as can be,
near perfect' but if only he had known
the one thing that she never forgave
that three word phrase, he never had said it
she now tortured him from beyond the grave,
her phone topped up with eternal credit.
Silent feelings, unheard words
Deepest secrets, vision blurred
Lonely days and lonely nights
Forever longing, eyes closed tight
No restful slumber only fitful sleep
The sunshine fades into shadow deep
Dreams once mine of a beauty rare
Will come no more, only dark despair
That fragrant rose whose sweet perfume
Entranced my eyes, now gone too soon
“Compare thee to a Summer Rose”
No more I see you lest my eyes are closed
How cruel this life when the light shines dim
It slowly fades from your eyes, within
My passionate beauty, my life, my soul
I'll search for you till eternity is old.
The “rinodemwiticus”
It stood proudly hungry
watching all the others sate themselves
promising them forever more.
It turned – I saw the other face
preening itself as it strode
through the debris of its
efforts to build a bigger nest.
I watched it struggle to sleep
wrestling with its duplicity,
doing battle with its multi-faceted
manic manipulation of the pillow.
In fitful sleep it flip flops on itself,
tells lies about the lies it claims
it never told. One voice shouts:
“I will save everyone from everything”
the other interrupts loudly:
“I will give everything to everybody.”
Six owls fell out of the trees
stunned by the depth of this “logic”.
The wolves took off their “sheep’s clothing”,
the fox moved into the henhouse,
the lamb looked at the lion and said”
“Don’t even think about it Leo.”
Chicken Little and The Little Red Hen
were led away in handcuffs.
The rotating head of the “rinodemwiticus”
contradicted itself continuously.
Soon the whole forest was aroar
with grumbling and fighting.
Christopher Robin hid the honey from Pooh,
Mary’s Little Lamb hooked school,
the Cookie Monster was “fat shamed”
into unemployment and depression.
And still the “rinodemwiticus” whirled
spewing its noxious vitriol on the
flummoxed masses lest it be seen
too soon to be the extinct two faced
aberration that it is.
4/3/2016
submitted to – A New Species – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Anthony Slausen
Ship-wretched
Golden sand as far as can be seen
Lapped by an ocean, aquamarine
Sun blazing, high, in an azure sky
Another land hermit crab scampers on by
Palms edge the beach gifting welcome respite
from the heat of the day till the cool of the night
When the touch of an incoming breeze
Taps coconuts out of the trees
Out on the reef, lurk broken timbers
Phantom remains of his long ravaged boat
Each fitful sleep brings a new silver moon
And his silhouette yacht now afloat
But in the day those dank timbers sway
Like demonic arms seeking help
So it’s Snapper for breakfast and lobster for lunch
And supper is crab served with kelp
Each coconut lands with a thud
on his cabin of palm leaves and mud
Then drops to the cool evening sand
The coming day’s breakfast now planned
But the reef is a bountiful mark
Though the shark does his rounds after dark
So diving until the sun yawns
Brings dinner of oyster and prawns
Then someone dives over the side
Of a yacht that just anchored offshore
She gracefully swims with the tide
He isn’t alone anymore
With two passion fruits, that’s one each
He exits the shade of his tree
He halts as he heads down the beach
Dumbfounded at what he can sea
Naked she walked from the sea
Enjoying the solitude there
No swimsuit and no bikini
For no one can see that she’s bare... (Oops!)
His one overwhelming emotion
Takes over as soon as he meets her
He stares at her yacht on the ocean
And dreams of hamburgers and pizza