Sleepy Poems

I'm tired and about to go to bed, but I just realized that, without having posted anything for the last month+, my blog has hit 2000 views, so I thought I'd celebrate a little by posting some recent sleepy poetry. Enjoy and good night.

In My Sleep

I am a thousand words
restless on a bed, somewhere between
the clear night sky of deserts
and my pillow, stuffed and sunken in.

I am a hundred pages
written in one dazzling firecracker
of a moment at rest,
back against the wall of gravity.

The day is a fuse
and at night, my colors burst
where no one can see
the spontaneous brightness of my room.

I know because it wakes me
when the stories crash onto the floor,
a mixture of every paint
imagination can summon forth.

I collect them carefully,
pen to the page, though the colors fade,
in hope you believe that once
these words were loud and vivid.

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At The End Of The Day

He returns without a thought: nothing
about eating or sleeping, but like a machine
his body twists the key like a knife
and drags himself into the kitchen,
makes hand to mouth motions with a drink
and something reheated from yesterday,
then stands in the shower and let’s it run
all over him - the heat, the dirt, the day -
and when it’s over, he doesn’t believe it
or disbelieve it, he merely changes
one outfit for another, cleans his teeth,
sets the alarm and systematically turns off lights
retreating as it were from the door to his room
before slipping away beneath heavy covers
where his mind has been from the beginning.