Insomnia And The Poet Poem by Patricia Gale

Insomnia And The Poet

Rating: 5.0


One… it can’t be
Mind twirling and whirling
Sleep comes not tonight
Words spinning so fast
I want it to stop… but…. Wait...
No it’s like being fueled and ready to speed

A horse at the gate raring to run
One more step to break the ribbon
Being a child and not wanting to sleep
in fear they might miss something
A cat ready to lunge

Quickly Watson bring me my pen!
A merry go round of words
Catch them if you can
Bring them down with a pen
Attach them to paper and give them verse

Perhaps a dash of rhyme
Keeping it right on time
Neither a penny’s worth nor a dime
What’s that’s sound…a two o’ clock chime?

Damn this infernal machine!
That keeps running when the body wishes to stop
I am not sure but Alice… was that a rabbit that just hopped bye?
Wearing a vest and a tie?
Good gracious I think I am going to cry

Tick, tock the trap went clack
He took the bait
And left with his fate
Running late for a dinner date
Meet you at the hand of twelve

Oh why bother
Let’s go find Christopher Robin
And that depressed jackass…
The blue one with a pin in his tail

Mercy me, mercy my
They are knocking at the door
Dragging a white jacket on the floor
Two men there coming to take me away
Its time for this to end I do pray

COMMENTS OF THE POEM

Wow! You are prolific! I am impressed with the number of poems you have written. I have scanned your list and found this one reminiscent of one I wrote. So I posted mine for you and other to read. Amazing how similar in nature they are. This poem hit home for me and I found it to be meaningful and explanatory of what we all as poets experience from time to time. Thanks for your insight. Skip

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Tailor Bell 19 July 2007

the essence of insomnia...constant stimulation...racing thoughts...great read. -Tailor

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