When Shakespeare had insomnia (a two line poem).

 Oh what a tangled bed we weave

when we venture for reprieve...

Identity

 afloat today

water all around

stars guide me

the dark night of the soul

is left behind...

am I a happy person

now

opportunities arise

like a hippopotamus

coming out of the river

will the African queen

reappear in my life

my daughter

born of much pain

while I grow older

and youth appears

the cycle begins again...

Hospital night

 

Exploration

 Waking in the morning

can I have the day go my way?

or is there a sense of wonder...

finding through not knowing

will I lose myself...

and gain something new along the way

the past weighs heavy on me

it will always be there

whether I like it or lack acceptance

to forge ahead

I can pretend to be confident

if I’m not

There are waypoints as I travel,

friends

some close, others further away

their lamps shine

as I discover the future that is mine...

Hope in the Day

 Will I ever find hope?

in the day ahead

expansive, free of thought

I feel new life

Where does it come from?

not from the Sun and the Rain...

It came from the pain of long ago

Unknown, unspoken and unloved

like a dirty child playing in the mud

a cool voice calls her

she looks up and turns her head

a warm room and a meal in front of her

why not move on?

a gumboot is stuck in the damp earth

Let it go, let it go

part of us is left behind

Like a sinner on a Sunday

come home for a roast

and discover the gaps in time in front of me...

Browns Bay Sunrise, Auckland

 

In-som-nia

 

I break down the word

like it shatters my life

as persistent as

a prisoner’s strife

A hidden affliction

in the dead of the night

leads to a feeling

that something’s not right

Will it shorten my life?

Some people think so

Engulfed in this nuisance

I try to let go

A release of ambition

annealed by fire

this things got me beat

no point in desire

like a marionette

I’m jerked on a string

I cannot fight back

it just increases the sting

a breeze passes by

I look up in hope

has the man and his hand

let go of the rope...

will I be free

to enjoy natural slumber

or does this clown

really have my number?

I get extra time

to read and compose

and look on the bright side

of no nightly repose...

Where is that Sandman?

I beg and implore

to show that controller

the ultimate door...