Quiet is Loud for the Insomniac
Oh snap...Two new posts two days in a row...that's rare these days... Well this one is a poem. So they're different. Its the product of my insomnia. I didn't fall asleep until 4 o'clock this morning...what gives???
2:15 on a March morning
A solitary lamp post
Covers me in its beam
As I sit on a red curb
A silver and teal fire hydrant sits erect
Behind me on a bed of pine needles
There's a chill in the air.
I look from the earth worm struggling below me
To the stars twinkling above me
And I contemplate the vastness of life
And my limitations.
I listen intently to the whispers of the wind
In the rustling of leaves on trees
And in and through bushes
Hoping to decipher some code that will help me cheat
Through feeling the effects of this insomnia.
I'm not alone.
Someone has come outside for a smoke.
Instinctively I want to choke him
For abusing his lungs.
He doesn't want to fill his apartment with the smell of his cigarette smoke
But he has no problem filling his pink lungs with black poison.
Choking him would maybe speed up the process
But he wouldn't understand anyway...
The lamp post down the road flickers
And for a split second I wonder
I wonder if its a candle with a flame
Waiting for me to blow it out
And make a wish.
I'd wish to not make myself sick
With all that's wrong in the world
A million thoughts per minute
The thoughts that steal my slumber.
I look to the sky with hopes that an astral map will point me in the direction I need to go
As it led the wise men to Jesus
As it led slaves to the North.
Usually I can spot Orion's belt
But tonight, this morning
It's nowhere to be seen.
Perhaps it's hanging in my closet
Strewn behind the facade I took off
Hiding from the critics in my mirror
...they won't criticize you beautiful belt.
The hum of the central air unit
Adds background music to an
Otherwise still and quiet moment
Still except for the wind's movement
Quiet except for my screaming thoughts.