Tag Archives: sleep

Carry and care

Originally posted on The ancient eavesdropper:
Sleep, the silent sentry of the night, sends us signals  without sight; we stumble  into each other’s dreams, tossing and turning  under blankets, torsos tied together as one inseparable secret of involuntary thought. Squirming…

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Brick & mortar morning

I awake, turn on the cold tap water & splash this sleepy face, my tongue setting like a ton of bricks, Mr. Sandman’s mortar sticking to my lids.

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Consciousness eclipsed

Originally posted on The ancient eavesdropper:
A brief rift between dream states of shadowy shape-shifts, a mental lapse eclipsed  by both sun and moon, so weightless, we shed our own self-awareness.

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Being at peace

Sometimes we think  so hard to write or yawn too long before sleep. We overdo & busy through but forget to be at peace.

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Where the sleepy dawn doth rest no more

Originally posted on The ancient eavesdropper:
Silhouettes on mountaintops, the standing of the trees, some slumping over nothing but the everlasting breeze. Bare granite laced up the slopes, casting luminous shadows on the residents below – crooked, gnarly ridge line…

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Closer today

The night fits itself snugly into pitch black pajamas  and loiters around with the man in the moon, while billions of stars join in a distant lullaby, humming a timeless tune. As the earth orbits and edges towards sleep, the … Continue reading

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Cricket comb hypnosis

Timeless songs soothe our senses  as serrated wings slide side-to-side  through doorways, under window wells, and into eardrums, chirping cricket comb friction fusing with airborne brush  and whir of wall fans, sweet surround sound  auditory hypnosis to hush  our heavy heads,  … Continue reading

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Soul sinking in

Click on the link below to read this sleepy poem: Soul sinking in.

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Carry and care

Sleep, the silent sentry of the night, sends us signals  without sight; we stumble  into each other’s dreams, tossing and turning  under blankets, torsos tied together as one inseparable secret of involuntary thought. Squirming in a wormhole  wrought with shadows … Continue reading

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Unoriginal

Oh, what originality do I own? Are the creative origins askew within my soul only leveled by the silent travesties of sleep? This wanting made ripe in the company of  intelligent life, do I sing the same harmony  as the … Continue reading

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