Maybe it was because of no sleep, that this happened

there’s a dull lull 

whispering pain,

and it creeps through my head.

as rhythms and melodies feed directly into the deeper and darker parts of my skull

 

i watch

a curtain slowly dance to its own beat

as cold air fills the room.

 

light, like a dying moth

flits and flutters

scattering its accents

in various, seemingly nonsensical 

spots on the floor, roof

and walls

 

i try to think of anything else

than things i see

but nothing comes

no deeper meaning

just observation.

 

and i see cars

as they pass by

outside, through the thin white veil

that allows the light to lazily fill the room.

 

catching my eye, due to the sun’s reflection off their windows

and metal bodies.

 

and because of the window,

that does as good of a job blocking sound

from the outside world,

as the thin white sheet covering this window

does at blocking light from this room,

 

i can hear them.

 

as they creep underneath my window

i can hear them fly by 

on the freeway

less than a mile away.

 

and nothing comes,

no reason for justification

no frustration at stolen sleep

at the hands of thin windows,

nothing but mindless observation. 

 

and that’s perfectly fine with me

A Morning Person On Days That Aren't Today

they say that the hardest part of writing is not the act,

but sitting down to start. i can easily say,

.

it’s all too true.

the last thing i want to do

is sit here to write anything new.

.

my head is full of nothing but cloth and pillow fluff

and my body swims in apathy to do anything but lie still.

.

the last thing on my mind

is writing out a clever find

or an experience i’ve left behind.

.

trying to shake out the sleep and to think about anything but grumbles

and mumbles. i just can’t shake the thoughts

.

that i just want to sleep

lie down and keep

dreaming and seep

.

back down into the cozy, warm and fluffy land

so full of what some would call pure happiness.

.

but a lazy rage has taken hold

forcing me out into the cold

bitter and angry, so everything i scold

.

it’s too cold, i’m too tired, i slept too rough, i woke too early, i have to pee,

it’s too cold to wash my hands but i probably should.. and the water IS too cold!

.

oh the joys of early morning rage

at nothing, at everything, no matter my age

a beast running rampant that everyone wants to cage

.

but here and now i think i’ve shaken it off, i think i’m cooling down,

and the morning is actually quite nice, both inside my house and out.

.

watching the trees sway, is an image i’ll borrow

think about the weather tomorrow

and be thankful that in this morning, i’ve known no sorrow.

.

A Heavy Storm Heads My Way

a heavy storm heads my way
but all i want is sleep
as I watch the darkened trees sway.

in the growing winds that last all day
it takes all my strength to keep
the heavy storm that heads my way,

from showing on my face as i lay.
my gaze so fixed and so deep
i watch the darkened trees sway.

all i can think is “come what may”
i’ll be waiting, as you try to sweep
the heavy storm that heads my way,

you try to blow it far away.
i just might make you sow and reap
as I watch the darkened trees sway.

leaving a bitter taste, i say
“look before you leap”
as the heavy storm heads this way
i watch the darkened trees sway.