Sunday, December 16, 2012

Asleep. (Still)

I wish I had something to offer tonight.
I slept on it, for six hours, from three to
nine.  Groggily I meandered down the
hallway out into the living room.  It was
pitch black.  The Christmas tree was the
exception.  Ambiance, everywhere, refracting
light through the various ornaments.  Something
was off.  Where was everyone?

stumbling to the bathroom, I eventually found my
way. I let the soap lather then rinsed it off. then the
mirror called out to me and somehow an hour evaporated
then and there.  I rewashed my hands as I had forgotten.

Peeking into the kitchen I found the cat sleeping on a chair.  Touching her fur, she perked up her head and cutely spoke, "let me sleep," and so I did.

Glass of water as throat goes dry.  Last apple remaining, sure, why not?  ooh, someone bought tangerines….well, okay, my arm is twisted. I love the easy peel.  I play games with my food, sometimes anyhow.  Here, I like to get the peel off in one full swoop.  It's actually not as rare as one might think.

Then I turned the corner, heading back to the bedroom. Socks sliding on this new hardwood floor.  Bed's like a magnet calling me, "come back to me, come back to me."

Dogs run in, realizing I'm awake, bark a bit, just because, these days they don't need much motivation, they just do. Then they jump up in. Thusly restricting the space I have to myself.

I wish I had something more to offer.
But I just woke up, again.  Dogs are the
best alarm.  Parents went to POPS and
it must have been a good time, as it's now
another day.

Ok.  Maybe that was a little while ago, as I heard the call once more and thought, why not, I'll sleep a little
more. I've always heard tiredness begets tiredness, and I suspect that theirs some truth to that.  But why so tired I thought, mulling it over simultaneously as head hit pillow and eyes closed once more?  Had I somehow met a lonely tse tse fly and invited it to share some tea?

Anyhow.  The details are small.  The hours are invisible.
Yes, they are there.  That cannot be taken away.  But when
your sleeping, all that is stolen, at least for the time being.

Well, it's late.  I'm in the "I can't write anything more than a Haiku mode again," but still wanted to get something down for Poetics.  As mentioned, I slept a lot today, er, yesterday. Stop on over to D'Verse where they're talking about the small things.


  1. Ha, like this enormously. I read it as stream of consciousness. Either way it works well.

  2. the irony for me is i just slept in aboutan hour and a half longer than i usually wake at, i fel like a few details have been taken away...smiles...this is very stream of conscious...tiredness begeting tireness....yeah, i been there...

  3. this is so cool. loved how you described 'going through the motions'... wonderfully worded.
    "I play games with my food, sometimes anyhow. Here, I like to get the peel off in one full swoop."
    this made me smile.
    great work, so calm, yet so vivid... i am glad you didn't settle for a haiku! ;)

  4. "Socks sliding on this new hardwood floor. "

    But beware -- splinters always await such blind trust. :-)

  5. smiles...i love that you made the cat talk...i used to sleepwalk quite a bit when i was a mom was never sure where to find me...i really climbed on furniture and stuff...ugh...dangerous

  6. Well you still managed to write something ~

    Like the details here specially of your interaction with the cat and dogs...the bed is calling me, sleep can refresh you, unless you want to forget the details, you will forget when you wake up ~

    Happy Sunday ~

  7. One of those nights is sure a pain as no sleep will come to your lane, just a bunch of crap that has to take a lap and keeps your mind racing around. Hate when such nights are found.

  8. Well, indeed you did 'offer' something, Fred. Crammed with details as well. It is the ordinary things that often make for the strongest writing!

  9. I love the meander.. the detailed descriptions.. the internal monologue, which also meanders.. but never is it boring.. it has a deceptively strong narrative thrust/impetus. At so many points I could relate to exactly how you were feeling or what you were thinking, and I think there's the rub. It's accessible in its everyday nature. The writing style allows it to flow nicely too - this makes it work. Great stuff, thanks Fred

  10. Stream of consciousness-like, this piece, packed with details, invites your reader to wander the nighttime house along with you. A good write. A good share. Glad to have popped in to read it!