poet's prayer
Posted: November 6th, 2016, 10:35 am
my gurgling stomach says wake up slave
as a hunger rises from a dream taboo
like a serious case of the midnight munchies,
so I reach for the pen in the nightstand and
wonder how this piece of furniture got its name,
I mean isn't it a Stand in the daytime as well ?
my ballpoint feels like the sword of Damocles
slashing through the rude night that forbids
fluttering eyelids that stare like tooth-picked orbs
in this battle for blinking immortality, insomnia
breeds writers like standing water harbors mosquito larva,
So you see kind reader, I am a perverted hatch-ling
set upon the public ear with my crude en guarde
words appear to my surprise...not that they are Coming mind you,
I'm fully aware... this process isn't new, but the words
each time-around, are fresh.. even though the bed-lamp is dim.
It's enough light for a mangler of language like myself, Fuck It !
Dear Colleagues, I never once pretended I had an ounce of talent
you have to give me that at least, and truth be told
I am just a man that went to bed with the plan all along
to bathe my darkened hours in regenerative cells, welcoming
spectacular dreams....I never set the fucking alarm clock,
I never asked for this addiction... but I am a junkie
of sleeplessness, and I'm willing to tell my story, cold turkey
and so it is
in the stark moments
just before
the dawn
thy pen and thy pad
they comfort me
as a hunger rises from a dream taboo
like a serious case of the midnight munchies,
so I reach for the pen in the nightstand and
wonder how this piece of furniture got its name,
I mean isn't it a Stand in the daytime as well ?
my ballpoint feels like the sword of Damocles
slashing through the rude night that forbids
fluttering eyelids that stare like tooth-picked orbs
in this battle for blinking immortality, insomnia
breeds writers like standing water harbors mosquito larva,
So you see kind reader, I am a perverted hatch-ling
set upon the public ear with my crude en guarde
words appear to my surprise...not that they are Coming mind you,
I'm fully aware... this process isn't new, but the words
each time-around, are fresh.. even though the bed-lamp is dim.
It's enough light for a mangler of language like myself, Fuck It !
Dear Colleagues, I never once pretended I had an ounce of talent
you have to give me that at least, and truth be told
I am just a man that went to bed with the plan all along
to bathe my darkened hours in regenerative cells, welcoming
spectacular dreams....I never set the fucking alarm clock,
I never asked for this addiction... but I am a junkie
of sleeplessness, and I'm willing to tell my story, cold turkey
and so it is
in the stark moments
just before
the dawn
thy pen and thy pad
they comfort me
* - I've always appreciated the natural beauty of the wood