Waking Poems - Poems about Waking

I wake to walls. No feet running, no kettle hissing. Only the tap of a message not sent. If I had written to you earlier, perhaps the morning would feel less like an ending and more like something possible. Instead, I scroll past lives I do not live. And tell myself: Next sunrise, maybe....

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Sleep held me hostage this early riser, jumped ship free will is magic....

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Wavy descent Fitted garment No one is chasing me Time is silent Radical war Internal conflict Limited hope Eternal distractions Fearing stagnation She is not even real Where do I go? When will I know? Stillness brings peace I am lost in the fog Darkness has taken me nowhere Am I bathing in the waters of life? Hungry for more Numb to the shadows who whisper my guilt Destroyed the world with one...

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The moment When the wisps of that land— The one where dreams Wander astray— Morph into waking. Where another version of you Lives a life stitched From night and mind, Pauses, As if deciding If that dream Deserves to go on. That blur you can’t remember Just before your eyes flutter awake The hush of nothing In between Dreams And waking....

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For Ink Empress's Etheree of your Heart Poetry Contest 4 June 2025 Light grows slow in hues bloom, eastward, sky springs a soft, gentle yawn, colors bleed, gold and rose, the world stretches, taking breath shadows flee, night's dark embrace fades, hope returns on the morn's first warm rays, a brand new day, a promise whispered deep~ that promise brightly brings a quiet hush, peace descends, a tranquil,...

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If you listen, the morning talks to you through its white silence. There is a depth here that falls away into prayer, a stillness that seems to veneer an even deeper still. My footprints sink into the fresh snow and mark it with a kind of sacrilege, scoring a pristine glaze with a clumsy presence. All this undisturbed loveliness is already beginning...

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The following account predicated on partial fact and a healthy dose of prevarication with an attendant overactive imagination. Trying to REM ember the waking stage of an emotionally tormenting dream One week later still dog-tired after jarring telephone ordeal (seven days ago from April 30, 2025) with fake government employees, yours truly still emotionally haggard trembling and wretched closely following on the figurative...

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SLEEPING AND WAKING We sleep in God's peace, Why wake up in Satin's wars? Let's wake how we sleep!...

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A day escaped, released from the sticky womb of night held firm in the arms of midwife morning, listen to its infant cries the wails of a newborn child unfed demanding of your bed and sleepy scant attention, it matters not that you turn your back and try to block your ears to tears of open-window traffic rage and...

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Leopard narrowed his yellow eyes for the night His body is stretched across upper branch tight He snores easily, but is awakened by a small boor This small tasty mammal rustled across the jungle floor...

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(“Dragon’s Eye”, 2024, original encaustic) Waking To Duality I wake from a dream Where I’d been in nondual samadhi A vivid clarity of thoughtless meditation I tried to sustain once awake Until I realized I probably have such dreams All the time and never know. The vanity and thus duality of life Is the desire and attempt to recreate What already is Making...

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I go to the supermarket to buy some mangoes. I’ve had five coffees And spent hours on detangling computer wires. Reciting a poem I remember from fourth grade I opened another three college letters in the mail yesterday. The mailman’s teeth were yellow. We regret to inform you We regret to inform you We regret to inform you that There are no...

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Waking up early steals your sleep, but sleeping too long steals your peace, Like a morning thief leaving shadows in place of unfulfilled dreams, Movement makes you feel pain in your muscles, but stillness weakens you, Like a stone statue crumbling under the weight of time, without motion. Earning money requires time and effort, but lacking it steals your...

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In the morning, I dread waking up. When I do, there is no you. Since you left me, it's the one thing I haven't been able to get used to. There are nights I drink coffee, Trying to make myself stay awake. On the hard days I'm missing you, There are these pills that I take. In the end, it doesn't matter. Eventually my...

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Sat in rows dressed for summer, we convene to talk about winter and death. There are four screens in the room. one in front left right ...

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