Wind groans and drags the door, fingers tracing
rising bumps of hair; I curl back warm in
mother’s womb; but inside my eyes glow bright
-and wide, my jaw a vice that crushes heads
Each glowing character burns hot; each
stringy-minute-stretching; another hour
struggles, blinking; till each, snaps grimly past

Curtain tracks shriek their anger, resenting
Intrusion; they seek dark corners; shiver
on cold walls; haunted by shadows of sleep.
Doors pour silhouettes; chances companions.
But outside morning waits; laying down-dark
sky, uncaring she births; torn-at the suns head
And whispering promise, tomorrow smiles


Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

it will take several reads of this before it all truly sinks in. what amazes me about you more than this poem is your ability to change and evolve with each subsequent poem that you write and the divesity that you bring to this site. amazing, amazing stuff sue.

5:40 PM  
Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

diversity in fact!

5:42 PM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

I like divesity better its like lots of different vests that you can dive in, yipee

6:03 PM  
Blogger Carbanion Tolodine said...

Listen to the night and keep your imagination on the move. See the impossible. Keep your eyes wide open. Let the night keep you in the magic.

A very fun poem!

Bye, take care of yourself.

6:22 PM  
Blogger MB said...

This really conjures for me the surreal way the mind can work, in the middle of the night, overtired but awake, there in the shadows...

9:33 PM  
Blogger Russell Ragsdale said...

Wow Sue! Absolutely great!

Doors pour silhouettes; chances companions.

I can't get enough of it. It is as if I was absolutely starved.

1:46 AM  
Blogger Nessa said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

5:49 AM  
Blogger Nessa said...

And we should all smile back :)

5:50 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

this is a damned fine poem, sue. i know of insomnia first hand and over prolonged stretches. this really illuminates the weird and endless
parade of surreal feelings that ensues.

6:08 PM  
Blogger castor said...

This poem is also a great psycholgical study, apparitional pictures in agitated sequences assisted by unbalanced rythm of words are associating Schönberg's twelve-tone music. It's a great poem, Sue!

10:11 PM  
Blogger death said...


6:14 AM  
Blogger GEL said...

Vivid Clenching
Gripping jaws of
insomnia's pervasive
looming "haunting"
My words do no justice to your piece. I'm in awe. You write WONDERFULLY. Insomnia has been a lifelong fight for me.
( I'm sorry I can't post words to that draft poem I put on audio post because I hurt my hands.) It's much too intense and personal for my daughter to type for me. WHen I can, I will.)

8:26 AM  
Blogger death said...


9:49 AM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

Carba-I will try

Mb it is a place I often dwell-but mostly I enjoy the quiet of the night

Russel hopefully you're feeling comfortably full now

Nessa who could resist smiling at the dawn?

Finn, how do you fit in all those dreams?

Death eeek! and you a poet too

silvermOOn, poor you what did you do to it?

Castor I will definately have to look up Schönberg's twelve-tone music, it sounds very interesting.

10:47 AM  
Blogger MAHARAJADHIRAJ said...

I feel hugely drawn to words like Insomnia (your title, or anything else to do with sleep), maybe because they allow you to stretch and play them in many ways.

Here's an example from my poem, Cyanophile: Blue Lover

The blue
evening sun,
like me,
the sea
of meaning
to trawl
its depths
and steal,
words like
'Comfort' and
and not

4:12 PM  
Blogger castor said...

Start with Schönberg's "Verklärte Nacht"("Transfigured Night"), I'm sure you will like it, Sue!

5:58 PM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

MAHARAJADHIRAJ thank-you for the beautiful poem, as you say sleep and dreams lend many meanings and interpritations.

Castor I will look out for it, I have been reading about it and it sounds amazing

6:27 PM  
Blogger Queen Neetee said...

When I read your poems, they just amaze me. The depth in which you go into your soul is quite impressive.
Your very being speaks not for praise but for the wonderful sake of expressing itself.
Sue, I love this because I feel that I have been invited to witness and sit quietly while your soul sings within itself.
I decided not to try and understand it because it'd get it wrong. I just want to read how you talk inside yourself.

12:16 AM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

Queen Neetee I always think that what you understand is what it is, If I meant something else by it what you get from it is every bit as important. I seem to be rambling. I just mean things poems art rearly have just one meaning and I like to know how other people have read them, that's why I don't explain them first. Incidently I hope my soul has a better voice than I have, my children usually tell me to be quiet.

12:43 PM  
Blogger Queen Neetee said...

Your soul has a beautiful voice. I think everyone can hear and feel the beauty of it as I do.

8:50 PM  

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