Close to this sleeping root, in its flesh of ancient earth,
something struggles silently to become light again, to be born anew from shadow.
And we remain, with our thoughts hanging like a rope torn from the sky,
wondering whether to overlook its gentleness, sweet and annihilating.
A tumbling of black waters follows, over the forehead of my memory,
a shaken clarity, like a lightning bolt that lies, falsifies, and forgets.
Then I barely recognize the electric grace of the men from long ago,
whom I had seen carrying their rusted shirts through the swamp that scorched them,
planting themselves in the ground with arms outstretched like a cross, a condor on each shoulder,
men who wanted to die beautifully, shattering their bones like ancient bells,
their eyes extinguished like burnt amber, silent as icons forgotten by prayer —
and I feel them smoldering within me, like a root that refuses to sleep.
And I walk out into this magical, phosphorescent rain, mystical and cold,
to untie the rope that binds me across centuries and dreams,
to roll myself back into the root from which all that I am has struggled to become again.
There’s nothing more peaceful
Than a sleeping child
With soft rhythmic breaths
So gentle and mild.
Are mummy and daddy
In your dreams during sleep
Or are teddy and doggy
The thoughts that you keep?
Rest well my love
You’ve had a big day
Not a care in the world
Just some games to play.
Out in the garden
Making mud pies
Taking in everything
Through those beautiful eyes.
In the blink of an eye
The babe has grown
The bird grows it’s feathers
From the nest it has flown.
To a world of love and loss
The highs of human connection
But a coin has two sides -
The lows of utter rejection.
But for now rest well
In your cloud soft bed
Embracing the dreams
That dance in your head.
For there’s nothing more peaceful
Than a sleeping child
With soft rhythmic breaths
So gentle and mild.
Dreams of angels,
comforting and beautiful,
laying gracefully all around,
I awaken from a deep sleep.
I turn to my left to see,
her eyes shut, oh so beautifully,
her smile hidden, oh so slightly,
and her hair falling, just so perfectly.
She breathes in perfect rhythm,
making my heart follow in sync,
a smile crosses my lips,
and a feeling of ease settles over me.
I do not want to disturb her,
I do not want to wake her,
because she looks so peaceful,
and so incredibly beautiful.
I pray that she’s comfortable,
I pray that she’s warm,
I thank God for delivering an angel,
a sleeping beauty by my side.
I tend to feel hot, so I much rather lay in a room so cold.
Need few more pillows for each pair of limbs to comfortably hold.
Some nights my snores are unladylike, or so I am told.
sloth hung upside down
the world waits for it to wake~
mocking time
I’m told I crawled before I stood,
but I really don’t remember. Early
on I flopped a lot, before a steady
gate. I believe it was a September?
Or maybe in a November?
September? November? ~ I really
don’t remember. While I do remember
never able to dream. To this day
not a night of gleam. Doctors claim
a screwy REM, spiritualists also
say I do but forget – I say, a curiosity,
while nothing I deeply fret. But with
so much of my life asleep, I wonder
why such a mysterious deep? Yet
guardian angels I guess, watching over
me – would be nice if one made a peep.
Circling in the swinging rounds
Sleeping in the busy train
Of the London Underground
Missing over and again
Escalators that deliver
Upwards to the rainy street
Interrupted dream will quiver
Falling down under feet
What was real, becomes imagined
More amorphous, less greater
Undeniably nostalgic
Though I will deny it later
I return to where I’m bound
Leaning on the rails it’s me
But you’re nowhere to be found
Though it’s only you I see.
As the forest,
Slept beneath a blanket
Of autumn leaves, silence shrouded
The sleeping poet's pen
Computer off
He turns on the lights
I close my eyes
To slip back into another life
The one in my dreams
Where you’re still here with me
Though you feel impossible to keep
Sometimes I can’t find you
Still searching my way through
Holding onto what we once knew
And when you return to me
It’s never peacefully
Never with any certainty
Because there’s always something in the way
A different distance every day
And you were never meant to stay
A mournful moon ascended,
Haggard,
Bland,
Weak.
Silence unfurled upon the grassy plain.
Gloomy shadows:
I felt so depressed
And lonely.
All around a sense of nostalgia,
Of reluctance
That made me wince in pain.
I sat beneath an old, gnarled oak tree.
The air was mute
But not peaceful!
Still, sparse stars swung in perfect symphony.
Dreams descended on restless somnambulists.
The waning moon continued
Its steady downward course.
The dark green plain stretched afar.
Where were their ghostly shadows?
Spectral and weird darkness seem to dissolve.
The moon was now at its resting place.
Soon, the sun would clear my befogged mind.
An odd hatchling was judged by many,
Life for her was hardly sunny,
Every single good old day,
Just saying his skin was grey,
Why did they say it was so funny?
Was it that in the princess and the pea,
A power was held inside this sweetie,
Such a sensitive princess
to find in such thickness,
such a small pea, he was in glee
I kicked my legs and off I went
Up into the midnight black,
The sky tilted, the trees bent
As I looked down and back
To narrowly miss the drifted stars
I quickly ducked my head ...
Out beyond lies Saturn and Mars
And my body in it's bed ...
I flipped on a windy draft
Landing on a crescent beam,
The moon and I simply laughed
About my flying in a dream.
Sometimes I feel like howling at the moon
Sleeping till noon
Days go by
Seems like they fly
Going so fast
Time never seems to last
From day one the die is cast
Trying to make my way
Making the most out of each day
Walked so far
Trying to reach my star
Maybe one day or another
With a little help from my brother
I will reach that light
Weary from the fight
Stand up straight
Sorry I'm a little late
But that's fate
I made it through the gate
Made to the end of the line
Feeling fine
Little used
Abused
But here I stand
In the promised land
I dreamt it in stone
whilst I softly slept
unhurried thoughts
as others wept
exist as one
that is the dream
but the dream is undone
kneeling and wretched
prostrate on the ground
serene and believing
salvation found
by the light of the moon
it's possible to see
the most favoured
most becoming
version of me
I've taken up space
fashioned as ornate
with no way to speak
as a protected state
but thoughts run rife
impossible to still
what bodies can't encapsulate
within the shape that they fill
my bones tell a story
my mind doesn't understand
I agreed wholeheartedly
as horizons are scanned
let me be enveloped by the sandman
lost in a faraway stare
just outside of time
perhaps my purpose lies there
Night time Battle
Side by side we run the tests!
To find which path to sleep is best!
Sleep is more elusive now.
That we don't get up to milk the cow!
Is eight a bedtime just for me?
While he sits up to watch TV?
Does his back do better on the floor?
Do earplugs help him when I snore?
We want to get up strong and tough!
But stay asleep just long enough!
To make it to our kitchen chair
And maybe find some breakfast there.
No infant wakes us in the night,
No burglers or a dog that bites.
But as the moon through darkness glides!
We find that sleep from old folks hides!
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