sleep

  • The Cigarette Lady

    There will be no sleeping for me this morning, on the long-haul commuter bus from Kingston to Port Authority. The suspension has a great shark’s bite on the smallest of bumps. The air conditioning is hammering the back of my neck. The “cigarette lady” has chosen her seat directly behind mine.

    Out of the corner of my sleepy eye, I see her yellowed hand imposing a little on my periphery. I smell the sour acrid gag of stained and spotty organs. Her cough begins shortly after departure, lung and trachea protest the imposed sanctions. As the nicotine receptors settle in to the martial law, the listless lack of oxygen will huff the grey cloud of sleep upon the tarred and charcoal soul. She claims the seat next to hers for streaked and straining capillaries of lower extremities, and soon enough she will floats off into the thick atmosphere of dreams, snoring in Chinese.

  • Black Godess

    Coffee makes me love
    Even before I stir
    My heart is open to the world
    I take the medicine for being
    By the mouth without seeing
    The true glory of the day
    It always comes true
    With the mouth watering ensues
    The brilliant awakening of cells
    The super heightened manic bend

    I give myself to you black goddess
    My occupation depends on your benevolence
    Your encouragement is sweet
    It glides and softens too
    I find my way through
    An otherwise foggy day
    Far from the San Francisco Bay
    Where I first saw your face
    You were everywhere in my way
    Helping me to stay awake
    Through the trying days of twenty-three

    Now we’re an undefeatable team
    Sometimes in true true black
    Accompanied by a snack
    Or augmented by sugar and cream

  • Am I Working?

    I get so sleepy in this dreamy place
    Eyes are so heavy in my face
    Where did I get this idea
    To sit for money until the  days end

  • Oblivious To Be

    Oohhhhhh blivion
    How I long for thee
    And your sweet shady tree
    To lie below and dream
    The day is long
    And so perturbed am I
    By distractions great and smiling
    Lay me down by your stream
    Of lazy coiling waters
    Drifting leaves to no end
    Will pass beside undetermined
    If my languid spell won’t last
    Perhaps you’ll give me motives
    To stay forever in the sun
    Beside the wicked water’s draw

  • Brown is Fire

    Why does brown makes me think of fire?
    Even though black or red
    Should take care of that better.
    It doesn’t matter
    It’s what the dream said.
    As I was laying in bed
    The world was descending upon me
    As I was rising to the surface.
    “Brown is the color of fire”

    Is it the end of Autumn
    That makes me think of losing everything.
    But it’s the start of Spring
    When everything is new and green.
    Do these words try to convey
    Some meaning some command to obey.
    Or is it just a dream to be lived as a dream.

    In colors in fire.
    In everything that mixes together
    When I’m away in the hills of slumber
    I see and hear things better