Avoiding the Topic of the Hour: Death
Going through my little Bookie I notice I have written some craptastical crap. Speaking of crap I present to you this! Is it really poetry, or is it prose posing as poetry?
The Robin Sings Me to Sleep
Lying in bed and craving sleep,
A sleep that never comes,
I go through the motions and
Mutter to myself of
Fleeting daydreams.
This concentration and dedication
To sleep
Wears me out.
I hope my body sunders.
Well, not literally-
I just want
To sleep,
But
If my body broke in that literal sense
Then
I wouldn't be able to move
And
Would have no choice
But
To sleep.
It's to the point where
My eyes fall red and heavy but
When they fall they scratch and claw
At my soft eyeball.
My eyes, the scratching post,
My lids, small kittens.
I'd rub at the ocular itch but
My hands are already under the covers.
Have been for hours.
I hope my body sunders sometime soon.
I'm getting tired of lying here awake.
I just want
To sleep.
A feeling creeps toward my bed;
I hear it tiptoeing and shuffling about my room.
I'd roll over to see what it's doing or
Who it exactly is, but I'm afraid
It's not Sleep and
If it's not Sleep, then
I don't want to waste the energy.
The feeling comes closer and just
As I feel it's warm breath
Tickle my ear and calm my senses
A robin,
A red and noisy whistlebird,
A little singing, laughing devil
Comes and roosts on my windowsill.
"IT'S TIME TO SLEEP"
She calls to me.
"I want to sleep!"
I yell in return
While tightening my fetal position.
The winged thing flies in my room and
Takes post upon a bed corner.
Sleep, who had not moved from my
Bedside looks at the thing bewildered.
The Robin smiles and
Clicks its beak twice
Before engulfing Sleep
Right where it stood
In one giant breath.
I shudder to think what
The Robin might do next.
I never asked for this.
I hope my body sunders now.
I don't want to feel the Robin eat me.
I just want
To sleep.
"IT'S TIME TO SLEEP"
She calls to me.
"I want to sleep!"
I whisper to my covers.
------
I'm sorry to say, there is probably more to that poem. Right now I'm hinging on which meaning (narrative) I want to bring out more since a new one presented itself midway through. I like the surprise meaning but I don't think anyone but me will get it. You know why?! Because I can read too much into things.
The Robin Sings Me to Sleep
Lying in bed and craving sleep,
A sleep that never comes,
I go through the motions and
Mutter to myself of
Fleeting daydreams.
This concentration and dedication
To sleep
Wears me out.
I hope my body sunders.
Well, not literally-
I just want
To sleep,
But
If my body broke in that literal sense
Then
I wouldn't be able to move
And
Would have no choice
But
To sleep.
It's to the point where
My eyes fall red and heavy but
When they fall they scratch and claw
At my soft eyeball.
My eyes, the scratching post,
My lids, small kittens.
I'd rub at the ocular itch but
My hands are already under the covers.
Have been for hours.
I hope my body sunders sometime soon.
I'm getting tired of lying here awake.
I just want
To sleep.
A feeling creeps toward my bed;
I hear it tiptoeing and shuffling about my room.
I'd roll over to see what it's doing or
Who it exactly is, but I'm afraid
It's not Sleep and
If it's not Sleep, then
I don't want to waste the energy.
The feeling comes closer and just
As I feel it's warm breath
Tickle my ear and calm my senses
A robin,
A red and noisy whistlebird,
A little singing, laughing devil
Comes and roosts on my windowsill.
"IT'S TIME TO SLEEP"
She calls to me.
"I want to sleep!"
I yell in return
While tightening my fetal position.
The winged thing flies in my room and
Takes post upon a bed corner.
Sleep, who had not moved from my
Bedside looks at the thing bewildered.
The Robin smiles and
Clicks its beak twice
Before engulfing Sleep
Right where it stood
In one giant breath.
I shudder to think what
The Robin might do next.
I never asked for this.
I hope my body sunders now.
I don't want to feel the Robin eat me.
I just want
To sleep.
"IT'S TIME TO SLEEP"
She calls to me.
"I want to sleep!"
I whisper to my covers.
------
I'm sorry to say, there is probably more to that poem. Right now I'm hinging on which meaning (narrative) I want to bring out more since a new one presented itself midway through. I like the surprise meaning but I don't think anyone but me will get it. You know why?! Because I can read too much into things.