Poetry Keeps Me up at Night
Poetry Keeps Me Up At Night
When your eyes meet
the ceiling it drags you right in;
the sheep line up, ready to jump,
when your fingers start typing--
you are stuck on that track.
On a train going nowhere,
except into a wall, call me a survivor--
because I will not just lie here
pretending to sleep.
I have deadlines
and appointments to keep,
so I will find the courage to ride
this piece of poetic wreckage
to the end of the line.
I know I'm not the only one who has gotten up in the middle of the night because words won't let me sleep. Sometimes, I lay there forever going over the lines, one by one--memorizing them how I want them on the page. Once I get to the blank word document, it's like all those thoughts just disappear, or I suddenly become unable to recall them. They're like dreams that vanish quicker the more I try to remember them.
Am I the only one this happens to, or is there somebody else out there, who feels like maybe the best story or poem of their life, is a distant dream that might never surface again?
© 2013 TheVoiceOfCreation