Sleep -
It is a mystery
To me
This afternoon - late
I lay down for a moment
And hours passed
- no one could have separated me
From that
What comfort -
What bliss
What an opiate!
But now I wait
Late at night
For the idea to dawn again
For the sleepiness
To descend
Knowing that it's so
Necessary
To the quality of
My life tomorrow
Fiddling with Facebook
Looking up old "x's"
Feeling wonderful
That I can -
That there is no parent
No overseer -
To say
Anything -
Ah
What luxury
It may not seem like much
But from an over controlled
Childhood
I still run -
I am rebelling here
Staying up till
One
Hiding from
Responsibility
It will all be there tomorrow
The lists
Are still long
I check off one or two things
In a dulsitory fashion -
Until the next emergency arises
And takes presidence
But sleep
(Which is what this was
Supposed to be about)
Is no where to be found
No where around
As we get older
It gets more complex
Some nights - awake
All night
For no apparent reason
Just
The sheer cussedness
Of life
The more we fight and try
To sleep
The further away
It drifts
Anger doesn't help
Murdering helpless pillows
Beating on them
Cursing -
At three or four in the morning
Is probably
Counter productive -
Not in the
"Sleep therapy"
Curriculum
Was that a yawn?
The beginnings of a possibility
Of a return
To the blessed state
Of non-existence ?
One can but try . . .
