Awake, adrift, asleep

Cover Image

Where is it? The beginning. 

It's here somewhere,

I just have to find it.

Find it.


Find it.


Where is it? I know it is here.


Find it.

Close. Closer.





Eyes open to a darkened room.

John shifts awake, asks if I'm alright.

Yes, just frustrated.


I was nearly there- maybe too close.

Alive and dying was how it felt.

There, but not within reach.

A light pouring around the corner

where I knew what I would find,

but I lost it.


The shock was internal.

What was the pop?

Like static in my brain-

Two nerves misfiring.

Too much static lately

everything I touch;

couch - pop

remote - pop

cat - pop


The only things that didn't pop? I don't know.

Trees? Plants? Green?

A lot of things alive but dying.

I don't know. Sleep.




Drifting and floating with the writer who started

this freight train down a hill

braking with broken brakes.


I think I said his name in my sleep.

I don't know.


Alarm sounds, John's up. Eyes open, I crawl

across pillows, blankets, bed.

Reach up, get my morning kiss,

and he's gone.

Back to sleep.


Its my alarm this time.

I know I said something,

but couldn't hear it.

Choppy wakening.

Trying to recall the moment before the pop:


Hand over hand

over arm over head

over hand over hand

over arm over head,

up around down

back around

twisting and down,

pulling climbing

holding writhing

and holding on

and on

and on

to the point

where it left me

only an image-

hand over hand

over arm over head

on its strands

where I sought

a beginning

that shocked

me from sleep

before I could


grasp it.


Damn- Not there.


It's Friday and I am late

like every other day

except when I wake up with John.

I didn't want to wake up with him today.

Last night was late at the coffee shop

with the realtor friend

and the writer friend

and the other friends who have less definition

because I don't know what they do.

I think I said the writer's name in my sleep.

I don't know.


but whatever.

Couch – pop

remote - pop

cat - pop

TV on news, coffee on brew.

I walk out and light my smoke

and I am late.

I am awake,

I think.

It's Friday at least.

Good morning, Friday.


And that is how I start.


(Stream-of-consciousness that wound up having a unique rhythm, so I thought I'd share. Icon: Door by Daut Logua)


Created: Jul 08, 2012

Tags: dreafm, doze, sleep, wake, drift

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