Tag Archives: poem about insomnia

Insomnia Blues

Image by Alexandra Gorn on Unsplash, Used with permission.                 

Insomnia Blues

I turn up the volume, turn off the lights–
the beginning of one of my fruitless insights
into how to manage falling asleep
by listening to podcast sessions I keep
stored on my computer, backed up on my phone,
although I admit, in the dark, all alone,

I lie sleepless for hours, in spite of trying
various things to assist in my flying
off into dreamland. Music and books,
chants, meditations and other hooks
created to lull a person to dreams,
where I will not go in this lifetime,it seems.

Hour after hour, I try to snooze.
Light up a doobie, sip on some booze,
but nothing works, so as dawn lights my day,
I arise from my bed and I’m off and away
to attend Open Circle–– a weekly gathering
given to performances, lectures and blathering
on local issues. This week it’s my friend.

I find my seat. It’s first row, on the end.
Hear announcements of upcoming speakers and then
my very best friend. I hear her begin,
then fade into dreams, beginning to snore,
lean ever lower, end up on the floor.
So that sleep I’ve been praying for comes, in the end,
rudely, in public, as I lose a friend.

Today’s Word of the Day was “Volume.”

2:39 A.M.: Insomnia

Insomnia

I’m lying awake when I should be snoring,
but falling asleep is simply too boring.
Lying here quiet with nothing to do
with nothing to listen to, nothing to view
just makes me restless, unable to snooze.
I need some amusement, a snifter of booze—
something to make me forget to recall
that falling asleep’s not the end of it all.
I cannot help but resent this time wasted
when things could be written or looked at or tasted
instead of just lying inert in my bed
with my eyes shut but images filling my head
that tend to confuse and to fill and encumber
this time that good sense says should be spent in slumber.

Nervous Nibbling

IMG_1654

Nervous Nibbling

Why am I so nervous? I can’t seem to remember,
yet I am as edgy as a kid is on December
twenty-fourth. I cannot seem to get to sleep.
My angst grows as I lie here trying to count sheep.
Something niggles me, but I don’t know at all
what might be perturbing me. I just can’t recall.
If I could fall asleep, I might dream a solution,
but dreamtime will not come. I suffer thought-pollution.
With clouds of agitation floating overhead,
I just can’t remain here stewing in my bed.
I haul my sorry body to the refrigerator.
I’ll have some chocolate ice cream and regret it later.
A chicken leg, some pudding, another macaroon.
Those chips up in the cupboard will join them pretty soon.
My bags and bowls surround me as I flick on the tube.
I spend hours staring at that hypnotic cube.
Then my alarm clock sounds and I am jerked awake.
My heart starts to palpitate. My hands commence to shake.
I suddenly remember what bothered me back then.
Today’s the day I set for my diet to begin!

 

The prompt word today was nervous.