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Insomnia

I am the poet of the rotten pillows.

On eyelashes,
when the sweet slumber goes down,
The common waking rises
And the cavern chambers are dancing.

I am the poet of the rotten pillows.

My droughty dimension
Struggles in the sleepless universe
And the dreamland fades
By the insomnia's millenary voice.

I am the poet of the rotten pillows.

The leaves rest on the ground
Better than a crazy loner,
Who listens, in the wind, whispers that say
An olden night rune.

I am the poet of the rotten pillows.

Nigh of personal illusions,
I get bemused by the sour slumber
Which splits the waking, like a cyst,
Flowing away within gutters.

I am the poet of the rotten pillows...
 
— Unlight, Jan 02, 2009

About This Poem

About the Author

Country/Region: Romania

More from this author

Critiques

Proprietress of Crimson Hearts

Proprietress o…

17 years 5 months ago

Unlight,

unfortunately, I know the feeling and you manage to capture it in your words. I just love the reoccuring line. I was a bit irritated at first when it didn't show up as the concluding line, but I suppose it would only support the superficial form, not the emotional content. so I decided it is perfect after all! thank you, Unlight, for this write. your Proprietress
Unlight

Unlight

17 years 5 months ago

Proprietress, the reoccuring

Proprietress, the reoccuring line could also appear as the concluding line. I shall think about this. Thank you for your appreciation! Greetings!
ID

Ink Dragon

17 years 5 months ago

Unlight,

Love it, second everything proprietress said above! Poet of the rotten pillows indeed! I think I may just use this as my new nickname for you, Ink
Unlight

Unlight

17 years 5 months ago

Nina, thank you. I don’t

Nina, thank you. I don't know what to say about the nickname... Rosschandler, now I understand clearly what you said in your comment. Excuse me, for I understood something else. Greetings!
D

Dolor

17 years 5 months ago

Ars Poetica

It's good to find poets that approach so well both universal and personal themes. You combined very well "the science of sleep" with the science of poetry. Even though you are the poet of insomnia, this poem is a dream of yours you shared with all the other insomniacs out there. It was a pleasure reading it, it was a daydream. A ta, Diana.
Unlight

Unlight

17 years 5 months ago

Diana, your comment

Diana, your comment represents the perception of a wise reader. Thank you for your support. Yours, Ionut
themoonman

themoonman

17 years 5 months ago

Unlight...

I wanted to comment on this poem... for I absolutely loved it... the opening line is haunting... and had me hooked for the rest of the read which I thought was very good! Richard
Unlight

Unlight

17 years 5 months ago

Richard, Jess, I’m glad

Richard, Jess, I'm glad you liked this piece. Jess, I know you had some problems with insomnia. I think that's why you found yourself in this text. Cheers!
ID

Ink Dragon

17 years 5 months ago

I just had to reread this,

turning into a poet of rotten pillows myself at the moment... Well, as long as it´s not the poet who is rotten, only the pillows... ~N
Unlight

Unlight

17 years 5 months ago

I’m currently at Dolor’s

I'm currently at Dolor's place, being insomniac together. Perhaps my pillow's rot is contagious, but still I know that a poet's spirit can never be rotten. Don't let the bed bugs bite, Ionut.
ID

Ink Dragon

17 years 5 months ago

Insomnia rules

I have looked for bed bugs. Fortunately, there weren´t any in my bed, so I got some sleep after all. My greetings to Dolor, ~N P.S. You´re right, the true poet´s spirit can never be rotten!
Unlight

Unlight

17 years 5 months ago

Dionysus, thank you for your

Dionysus, thank you for your attention. It seems to me a bit strange that you said "incomplete thoughts" refering to this poem, but I respect your opinion as it is. Cheers!
Y

youarehere

17 years 5 months ago

Try a little warm milk with honey...?

If not, maybe a fifth of ouzo! "The leaves rest on the ground Better than a crazy loner" Tremendous line! And very effective use of repitition...more like a Greek chorus of revenant ghosts: "I am the poet of the rotten pillows." Like the crazy demon thoughts that afflict us in the mid-night when every other soul on the planet but us is slumbering, not on rotten pillows, but on gum-drop dotted cotton candy pillows...or so it would seem in those moments. "which splits the waking, like a cyst" That line makes me want to put on rubber gloves. Powerful graphic awesome. This poem builds to such a skull-pounding voices-in-my-head crescendo that it's hard to remember the striking and simple open-ish line, "on eyelashes." Great and powerful write and read. -Michael