SUNDAY POEMS

 graphic by Derasta.

                                INSOMNIA

It`s like waiting for someone to leave -

someone tedious, garrulous

and worryingly manic,

Someone full of reminiscences

which you don`t want to hear about.

 

It`s like waiting for something

to be taken away -  something

with a buzz as maddening as tinnitus;

something you`ve grown tired of, which is

taking up space.

 

These things multiply, creak and throw shadows

round the room. They start asking

upsetting questions.

Lie doggo.  This is not

an interrogation chamber.

 

The clock strikes again.

To pass the time,

you could try making up anagrams.

You could start with

ABSENCE and OBLIVION.

Connie Bensley

 

                            6a.m. THOUGHTS

 

As soon as you wake they come blundering in

Like puppies or more importunate children;

What was a landscape emerging from mist,

Becomes at once a disordered garden.

 

And the mess they trail with them !  Embarrassments,

Anger, lust, fear - in fact the whole pigpen;

And who`ll clean it up ? No hope for sleep now -

Just heave yourself out, make the tea, and give in.

Dick Davis