October 9, 2013
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Wondersleep
Sleep
Wondersleep
Formless
Fathomless wondersleep
Infinite sandmists
Smothermists
Blinded
Sandblinded
Unable to waken
Sandsmothered
Sandchoked
Soaring now
Sandlines below
Drawn without permission
Sensing shadowlines
Sensing unease
Whipped sleep granules
Grind under lids
Tremble
Eyelids tremble
Shaken shaken shake
Choking choke
Eyelids tremble
Wake up
For God's sake
Wake up!
Wake up!
Comments (3)
I need to have some deep hard to wake sleep. Very gripping poem - almost terrifying at the end...
I love that poem, especially since this morning I awakened from a vivid dream involving my need to straighten up my house and clean out a bunch of accumulated junk, and after (in the dream) sorting out stuff, I went to the dining room table (in the dream) and next to my seat was Daisy Mae, the Schnauzer who has been a guest resident for the past few weeks, scarfing up my food.
In your comment, you referenced a memorial poem about Don Larsen's perfect game. Could you provide me with the month and year of that post, so that I could search your archives?
Thanks.
Never mind, I was able to find it by typing "The Perfect Game" into the search box. Beautiful poem. Here is the comment I made there:
I loved the whole thing, down to and especially the footnote decrying the mammoth difference between today and yesteryear. The lifeblood of baseball is tied up with statistics, and statistics have been rendered meaningless as a result of ...