Turbidus

Somewhere between
the light switch and nightmares
I cling to what I can’t forget.

The pulled threads of nothing
keeps knitting itself into a mountain
my eyelids can’t climb to reach sleep.

I tear the petals from reasons
thinking a dry stalk won’t
bring crows to ridicule me again.

Forgive…Forget….Forgive….Forget
My demons keep poking sleeping dogs,
and I add another link to their chains.


©Susie Clevenger 2015




Real Toads ~ The Tuesday Platform

Comments

Marian said…
Ahhh Susie. Slaying dragons at night, that's what I call it. Be well, peace to you in 2016. xoxxox
December 30, 2015 at 7:55 AM
Debi Swim said…
"My demons keep poking sleeping dogs"... how true that is. Just when I'm sure I've forgotten and forgiven I feel that jab of hurt all over again. Wonderful write
December 30, 2015 at 8:04 AM
Kerry O'Connor said…
Your description of insomnia, and the things that can keep one awake at night is just superb, Susie. My brain, being over-worked, has a habit of not switching off when my body is ready to sleep, often the stress can lead to dark thoughts.
December 30, 2015 at 10:49 AM
Sherry Blue Sky said…
I was struck by the line Debi quoted too. Wishing you and your family good health and happiness in 2016, Susie.
December 30, 2015 at 11:06 AM
Sara McNulty said…
Loved the trueness of the imagery in this, Susie. Solid poem.
December 30, 2015 at 10:46 PM
Jim said…
A lot of troubled thinking can take place after the lights go off. The nightmares probably would be mild compared with some of those thoughts.
Personally, I sleep with a nightlight or two. I go to sleep with the room's TV going. A sleep timer function shuts it off. It doesn't keep Mrs. Jim awake. Lucky me.
BTW, I hardly ever dream anymore. My recurring dreams seem to have stopped. I actually enjoy those now, when they come.
HAPPY NEW YEAR !!!
..
December 31, 2015 at 12:32 AM
Anonymous said…
Whew, you nailed that Iron Maiden of a bed between forgiving and forgetting. The poem reads like a claw through sleep and the title is perfect. I pray the heart heal through this worst hour of night.
December 31, 2015 at 4:06 AM
Ostensible Truth said…
"The pulled threads of nothing
keeps knitting itself into a mountain
my eyelids can’t climb to reach sleep."
Ohh but I know that, it's in the solace of night that our minds tend to drift,
to consider all the minutiae. Great descriptives here, nice!
December 31, 2015 at 5:01 AM
J Cosmo Newbery said…
I'm confused but, granted, it is easily done. The poem seems to pull in a dozen directions.
December 31, 2015 at 5:02 AM
Toni said…
Excellent. You nailed the landing on this one.
December 31, 2015 at 10:42 AM
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