~John Steinbeck
Poet’s Insomnia
by Julian Matthews
It is late and you are awake, stricken by Poet’s Insomnia
You count sheep — and stop at one
You wonder how this lone sheep got here
The scene is a green, verdant field,
framed by white picket fences, rolling hills, shining sun
Scratch that—
Why is this field so green and verdant?
Make it windswept, dirty-olive long-grass, patches of burnt umber
Make the fence mottled, termite-infested, rotting like a grounded pirate’s ship
For that matter, why do hills always have to roll?
Make them weathered, fossil-studded, miocene
Forget the sun...
read the rest here
*********************
Live Your Poem has the Poetry Friday round-up. Thanks, Irene!
O, Poet's Insomnia, I know you too well! I am addicted to the "notes" feature on my iphone. Hardly a night goes by that I'm not awake at some point tapping lines in...Thanks, Tabatha. xo
ReplyDeleteTabatha, once in a while I get insomnia like last night when I had to stay up late to let my poem have a voice. You chose a very good poem for the reader to ponder.
ReplyDeleteI invariably wake up and look for that sheep - the one that I was counting on, and now I know where that sheep can take me! : )
ReplyDeleteLove the transmogrific journey in Julian's poem, so glad he crashed that poetry workshop, thanks Tabatha!
ReplyDeleteTabatha, I loved reading the counting one sheep poem, what a great study in description. Julian put so many pictures in the reader's head. I enjoyed seeing the cover of The Mistakes That Made Us, and the sweet childhood Tabatha image right there by Naomi Shihab Nye. How special. Thank you so much for the rich grief journal. I am committed to working through it, with all the grief of Phoebe and even more that I know will be unearthed.
ReplyDeleteOh gosh, I love the escalation in this gem, Tabatha. I wonder if she ever got to sleep!
ReplyDeleteThis poem cracks me up - I see NO ONE is sleeping tonight...
ReplyDeleteIt seems that "transmogrifies" is the word for many today, and this poem shows both the challenge and the reward, Tabatha. It's great!
ReplyDeleteThis poem is the best use of insomnia I have read!
ReplyDeleteWhat a wild night! I have had nights like that and even down periods during the day where I reach for my phone or a scrap of paper. I know better than to think I'll remember it - did that once too often. Seems poets always have words floating in our heads.
ReplyDeleteFrom the Steinbeck quote to the poem, you scratch a common itch for each and every one of us, Tabatha. Good focus for a thought provoking post.
ReplyDeleteHa! I love the immediate distraction...asking questions and wondering. The curse of the poet, or the blessing.
ReplyDeleteLove this! I have sent myself many an email at 2 a.m. :D
ReplyDelete