A Verbal Thanks to Ellen

by Poetvoices   Aug 13, 2006


Sheryl Crow fills the otherwise silent room.
Fan blades spin.
I don't even like Sheryl Crow. It's just on the radio.
55 past midnight.
Lack of sleep will make for frowns tomorrow.
Frowns are contagious.
The DJ finally shuts her up. His voice is soothing.

Fresh, clean head to fresh, clean pillow,
Great book to my heartbeat,
My baby girl at my feet.

Tick, tick, tick
That's strange for sure.
I just noticed my clock has noise.
I swear, a second ago, it wasn't ticking.
The silence becomes louder or the music softer...
The solitude of everything around will kill me, maybe.
That is, if I don't close my eyes. Quick before I get distracted.
A thousand questions and a confirmation that I'm too late.....
I'll most likely be awake until the morning hours come.
An hour and 10 past yesterday. That's all... all...
I'm stuck inside my own thoughts. Grr!
The most frustrating of prisons,
But breaths are long...
Getting longer.

A n d l o n g e r

I'm asleep before an hour and 15 past yesterday,
And I don't know it.

© Copyright 2006 poetvoices

0


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

  • 17 years ago

    by WIP

    This reminds me of my poem titles sleep but more at "peace" and less worrysome ect. This is the happy version

    all the things your mind can think of and do on the edge of sleep.

    I like the form going from short lines to loooonnngger and then back to short

    I personally think people shouldn't stick to the stigma that all stanzas have to be 4 lines long and the same length
    I love mixing it up and going against those "rules" as you well know

    I like this poem, hopefully I'll have a night before I go to sleep like that, maybe different music but none the less the same

    beautiful poem

    :-)

    [WIP]

  • 17 years ago

    by Ruthie

    Hey hey beautiful one! *grins* did ya miss me?! lol I signed on and there was a poem by the lovely poetvoices and AS ALWAYS it was a pleasure to read. even though it didn't stick to the confinds of normal poetry that my dear is the apitamy (yea ok watever I know I can't spell! :P) of creativity... when you pull if off... which you DID! lol... in short... love ya... missed ya... JESUS LOVES YOU!

    *hugs*

    Ruthie xoxo