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Saturday, May 14, 2011

Dreaming: What’s Void?

Quiet time,
Waiting for
Some new work
To come in,

Gentle breeze flows
Through the window,
Somebody whistling nearby,
High pitch colours the night;

Easy to think,
‘Everything is void,’
When it’s
Like this

But what’s thinking?
And who?
Can’t get that
Figured out.

Then irritation rises
In response to
That loud whistler
And attention turns one-pointed,

Yet,
That whistle is
Void
And that irritation too;

But what good does that do?
None at all, I expect,
So then, what the heck
Is the point of all that?

Can I see it now?
For there’s nowhere else I can,
Not sure
But perhaps that’s good.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Dreaminess: Seeking Relief

Take me home!
I’ve had enough!
Too tired to steer,
Too sleepy to see clearly;

Yet, no time for rest,
So much yet to do,
Before I can
Really relax,

Dreaming of relief,
While steaming ahead,
Stumbling a little
And longing for bed;

Planning a holiday
In my mind,
Not knowing when
Or how to unwind,

Too exhausted to decide,
Too weary to say,
It must be time
To remember how to play;

It starts easily enough,
Form the toes it wiggles,
Turns into a dance,
A silly jiggle,

Cavorting to the kitchen,
Giggly and fizzy,
Feeling lazy and dizzy
But nonetheless getting busy;

Cooking and cleaning furiously,
Working up to a tizzy,
Even though I’m reeling
From fatigue and confusion
And I’d rather be dozing.

Thursday, May 12, 2011

Dreamer: Caught on Irritability

“Have some writing to do,”
That’s what I said
To one of those people,
You know the ones,
Don’t you?

Who chatter ceaselessly
And it’s all about them,
Nothing substantial,
Perhaps only blowing wind,

What does he want?
I confess,
I was too tired to request,
Too busy to pursue,

If he’d give me a hand,
Perhaps we’d have time for two
But even then,
Idle blab gets old,

Like the incessant chirping
Of a sparrow,
Even that gets on my nerves,
In this frame of mind,

In which case,
Maybe that’s it,
Just overtiredness
And need some pick-me-up.

Whatever is required,
Sure hope it’s located soon,
It’s well past afternoon
And not ending;

Have to pull out the patience
And rummage through the mind,
For some sense of humour
To lighten the gloom.