Scantily scattered moonlight filtered through the canopy of broken clouds and leaves... Moon beams strewn sloppily onto the midnight floor as blurred sleepless eyes scan the shadowed field through the bars of the big brass bed.
A poem by Harlon Rivers
Scantily scattered moonlight
filtered through the canopy
of broken clouds and leaves
Moon beams strewn sloppily
onto the midnight wooden floor
as blurred sleepless eyes scan
the shadowed field through the bars
of the big brass bed.
Opened window's fragrant air
chills to the bone
serving a cold reminder
that now is here.
The frogs croak so boisterously,
through the open window,
their annoying echo disturbs
the peaceful serenity
of the stone cold silence
from the dimly lit night.
They echo the sounds
of insomnia…
Scenes play out
across the satin
clad feather pillows
as if some old drive-in
movie projector re-ran
the same reel over and over
onto the giant screen's
dreamscape in my mind.
Tossing and turning
as each new scene fades.
Those scratches on that
favorite record with
tattered and frayed cover
from a distant memory
Imperfections make the song skip
in the exact spot each time
the player replays
Lost moments ruminate
as the record spins
Projecting the picture onto
the pillowed screen’s
silky thread count
Convoluted dreams seen
through the blinking dark circled
exhausted minds eyes
Only in insomniac lucid dreams
does silent reverie evolve
into tortuous nightmares
Never silencing the croaking frogs,
subtle yet raucous reminder,
that soon dawn will arrive
The cockaded crow's "caw" " cawing"
laughs haughtily at the orange sunrise
ending another loathsome
sleepless night
alone...
© 2012 Harlon Rivers
4 comments:
"O sleep, O gentle sleep,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down
And steep my sense in forgetfulness?"
-William Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part I
"A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by
One after one; the sound of rain, and bees
Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas,
Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky -
I've thought of all by turns, and still I lie
Sleepless..."
-William Wordsworth, To Sleep
LASTLY A BIT OF HUMOR:
Laugh and the world laughs with you, snore and you sleep alone.
Anthony Burgess quotes
Very nice additions from those insomniacs before us. I'm a real fan of William Wordsworth, To Sleep. Thanks for this...I love it when there's something new to count other than how many times the trains whistle from here to there...
Is a snore really a snore if no one else hears it? Just sayin...Maybe that's what brings the silence of the Owls. Here I thought it was the trains passing in a distance all along...The Owls just seem amused and gossipy about the Coyote's howl. Maybe they are really telling me to shut the damn window...
And just why is it the whistle blows 28 times?
It's still a snore...
Oh those flirtatious gossipy owls...maybe when they are quiet they've found something better to do... (wink, wink)
It's the loneliness of the Coyote's howl that gets me.
So turn up the fan and fall asleep.
No can do...A little known fact is that coyotes are all about the group....It is believed that the howl is part of the threads that bind the group together, eternally. Like a bonding familiar vibe that hooks up the chemistry that hooks up connectedness. It's just the big dogs of nature are better at it than the "want to be connected". It's all good even if humans don't have the loyalty of a coyote. We still need to try..And the fan? hearing it all BRINGS ME ALIVE!!! My connection to the sounds of silence is greater than the sum of the parts.
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