She has a dream of finding love. But never
Has she felt lesser, or that it’s required:
She’s wholly there, complete, and will be, ever.
Already someone generally admired
Because she’s pure and doesn’t need approval.
The love she dreams of isn’t, well, a crutch —
It is a dream of mateship among equals;
Of union close perfected
With a touch
I really should be sleeping, but
I hard ever really do,
A thing not unexpected,
Given age
For I’d observed for many years
That sleep’s the province of the young;
And so I’m not surprised, now,
At this stage,
That I am an insomniac
(of a peculiar kind)
I get to sleep okay, but then,
Am wakened by a mind
That’s into problem solving, and
Gets up before I do;
And back at work before
A half-night’s sleep is even through
I really should be sleeping, but
That just is not my destiny:
The road I’m on’s the one
I have to take
But though I’ll walk the earth today
And wear my open eyes,
I do not think I’ll really
Be awake
Sleep will not release me
I am trapped in here for good:
As one in an Asylum
I would escape if I could
And like some so-called patients,
I arrived with my with mind strong;
But if I stay locked up in here
It will not be
For long
It’s the middle of night
Funny how the night doesn’t seem to have sides
Only a middle
There used to be some soap opera…
“The Edge of Night”
So, there is that
Why am I awake?
I’m frequently asleep at work
I have this all backwards
I wonder if I could claim jet lag
From driving a 1982 Dodge Omni?
That car can’t even do the speed limit
If you dropped it out of a plane
What was that plane my dad used to fly?
Yeah, that’s right, a “Goony-Bird”
It was a transport plane, I think
The airshow here last week was sure loud
Like when I went to see that
Awful Journey concert
We classical music types should know our limits
Speaking of limits, I wonder
Would reviewing my advance Calculus textbook
Help me get to sleep?
I remember that
For every Delta there is an Epsilon
Except
There’s no Epsilon Airlines
That’s okay, their flight schedule
Would probably be Greek to me
And I’d be standing there
Alone in the airport, thinking
It’s the middle of the night
At night I’ll read
When I am lost
And cannot get
A moment’s rest
My mind I’ll feed
While trouble-tossed
And find there, yet
The minutes blessed
And, funny how
I read along
Enthralled clean through
My beating heart
That only now
When I’m not strong
Do I turn to
Great works of art
I lie awake and dream that I am sleeping
I fall asleep and dream that I’m awake;
I don’t know if I’m coming or I’m going
I do not know how much more I can take
You came to me in dreams when I was younger
You teased me with desire and delight
You ghosted then away as in a nightmare
You left me here
To wrestle
With the night
Late I wander, through the valley
By the bridge of no return;
In a hellish waking dreaming
That I find at every turn,
Every toss and every volley
Twists me, as I stagger, blind:
Wishing I could find the trolley
To lift me from
My
Own
Mind
I think my mind is not my friend.
It troubles me incessantly
With doubts and worries to no end;
And glows rather fluorescently
When I would rather it be dark
And quiet. In the still of night
It circles ’round me, like a shark;
Each minute, taking one more bite
To wound me in my tired state
And keep me an insomniac:
Who can’t look forward, cannot rest
And cannot bring
Contentment
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