Somnambulist
Lock me to sleep,
discharge me numb,
set me in writing—
and so to be.
Poems on the topic: sleep
Poems on the topic “sleep” on Poets.by.
Provisioning
Packing up, I took leave
of my old axe
and bought a bit of salmon
for the sun.
I promise to give all
that I have to the brave.
I am not discontented
with my sleep.
Dust
this great dust is made
in the country
there is no cheaper
to fill up the house and urn
with I know not yet
what sleep
Invoice
Four o’clock
and I even accounts
with myself. Our heads roll
like ice on the shore
or the poor in
their warren. Where
is the house I forgot?
I light a room
to scare away sleep.
Legacy
Having been a dog
I sleep in Greek,
say I believe in
supper, not work.
Outage
in a house without power
the sound of the wind
appliances have stopped humming
chargers no longer glow
the masks on my walls stare
steadfastly into the darkness
i offer myself again
on the altar of sleep
Insomnia
dead again
the skull fills with soil
a small busy mammal
briefly inhabits it
leaves an acorn behind
in the brain case
which awakens
and can’t go back
feelers root
for the teeming light
mycelia for neurons
no eye but an owl
Digital
Each finger burrows
into its own sleep.
One or two twitch but
the thumb lies still
as an anchor.
Come morning, those
that dreamed will blossom;
the others will leaf out.
And I who kept them warm
will rise like rain in
a tall tale & take root
in a cloud of your breath,
so soft, so sea-worthy.
Cibola 3
I awake in the dark and shake free
of sheets & blankets, of down-filled
quilt. The rituals of waking–
the long, hot shower, the coffee–give
my mind the chance to keep drifting,
let memory make what it will
of the contours of sleep.
Oddest of all are the dreams in which
one awakes, forgetting all rituals.
And it seems normal to go out naked,
for instance, in the middle of winter.
The snow’s alive, remember?
It ripples, blue flames slip
through the trees like fish.
I feel fur sprouting all along my spine.
Sleeping
Eyes closed,
Mind filled of the beauty of your dreams
You hope it real
You hope it never end
But sooner or later you'll
Open your eyes to a world of torturous people
Sleeping
I should be sleeping
But I'm up thinking about you.
Late night
The darkness is filled with wonderful things, that people who sleep cannot see.
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