Insomnia

I wrestle elusive snake of sleep

Entwined among my bedclothes.

I count a woolly jumper of sheep.

Red-eyed, bleary, lachrymose,

Thoughts echo round my head

But refuse to yield their secrets.

I succumb to restless dreams instead,

Wake – startled, fitful, sleepless.

Again I try once more to seek

Lethe’s dark and silent shore.

But consciousness seems to sneak

In; chinks of light under my door.

I wearily wend my way downstairs

To a soothing mug of cocoa.

Tired, confused, befuddled me,

Fills cup with espresso.

Caffeine courses through my blood

Energising, enervating.

Wakes my brain up with a thud

No cause for celebrating.

I zombie-shuffle in the dawn,

To a chorus of early birds.

Welcoming sun through curtains drawn,

Inspiration to pen some words.

But tiredness blunts my energy,

Clouds distort the view.

My ideas lack any synergy

So I pour another brew.

My neurones crackle, fizz and buzz

With conflicting commands.

I fight on through fog and fuzz,

End my poem in a trance.

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You can read some more of my poetry in ‘Little Red Poetry’ (£4 pbk, £2.50 pdf e-book). 

Copies are also available from Left Books

Tags: insomnia, poetry, self-referential, sleep