I wake up often throughout the night and can't get back to sleep because my brain goes off in al kinds of directions. Like this poem, it has no true form, true rhyme or meter. Its just working, churning out scattered thoughts and subjects.
and gives its place to thought
I open my mind and wait to see
what my wakefulness has bought
There's such a lot of importance, you see
that dumps into my brain
And stirs around and grows in there
so I don't pay the price in vain
For instance I often buy,
the plans to a new house
And I spend a lot of time
laying everything out
I choose the colors, yellow, no lime
to paint my kitchen walls
And then I pick the bedroom floor;
dark oak, till plush carpet calls
Sometimes in my wakeful state I cook a grand feast
It's usually planed around turkey
or another pitifully dead beast
I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling
and plan each dish carefully
Of course there'll be the potato peeling
and bread I'll bake with yeast
I usually have a salad, broccoli, corn and cake
And someone will bring pie
And brownies, oh, those I'll bake
Some nights my ponderings
will solve the world's woes
I'll think how to do that job
while picking at my toes.
I'd fire all politicians and hire parents insead
They have to run their "business's" well
and keep out of the red
Parents have to discipline, and be good examples
They have to do their own shopping
And take advantage of free samples
Yes parents know how to stretch, the money that they get
They wouldn't just talk about spending cuts
They'd get it done I'll bet
Sometimes I think about self indulgences
I totally pamper myself
I pretend as would a spoiled little child
and so I give myself wealth
But, I would take a few million
and donate it here and there
I wouldn't want the publicity
So annonomously I'd share
I'd build churches, hospitals and schools,
And homes for the poor too
And then I'd self indulge
and make myself all new
I'd start at the top and work my way down
by taking off some weight pound by ugly pound
And then I'd see the magic doc
who would sculpt and tighten and chisil
When the project was done
All would say, you look so great
Have you been out in the sun?
About that time I'd fall back to sleep
and dream of all these things
I'd wake up in the moring and peek
to see they had all taken wings
And so until the next time
An awakening occurs
I'll sleep as best I can
to the sound of cat purrs
Poetry by Phyllis J. Rhodes
Read 619 times
Written on 2007-05-21 at 16:38
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Early Morning Awakenings
When sleep concedes to wakeful thingsand gives its place to thought
I open my mind and wait to see
what my wakefulness has bought
There's such a lot of importance, you see
that dumps into my brain
And stirs around and grows in there
so I don't pay the price in vain
For instance I often buy,
the plans to a new house
And I spend a lot of time
laying everything out
I choose the colors, yellow, no lime
to paint my kitchen walls
And then I pick the bedroom floor;
dark oak, till plush carpet calls
Sometimes in my wakeful state I cook a grand feast
It's usually planed around turkey
or another pitifully dead beast
I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling
and plan each dish carefully
Of course there'll be the potato peeling
and bread I'll bake with yeast
I usually have a salad, broccoli, corn and cake
And someone will bring pie
And brownies, oh, those I'll bake
Some nights my ponderings
will solve the world's woes
I'll think how to do that job
while picking at my toes.
I'd fire all politicians and hire parents insead
They have to run their "business's" well
and keep out of the red
Parents have to discipline, and be good examples
They have to do their own shopping
And take advantage of free samples
Yes parents know how to stretch, the money that they get
They wouldn't just talk about spending cuts
They'd get it done I'll bet
Sometimes I think about self indulgences
I totally pamper myself
I pretend as would a spoiled little child
and so I give myself wealth
But, I would take a few million
and donate it here and there
I wouldn't want the publicity
So annonomously I'd share
I'd build churches, hospitals and schools,
And homes for the poor too
And then I'd self indulge
and make myself all new
I'd start at the top and work my way down
by taking off some weight pound by ugly pound
And then I'd see the magic doc
who would sculpt and tighten and chisil
When the project was done
All would say, you look so great
Have you been out in the sun?
About that time I'd fall back to sleep
and dream of all these things
I'd wake up in the moring and peek
to see they had all taken wings
And so until the next time
An awakening occurs
I'll sleep as best I can
to the sound of cat purrs
Poetry by Phyllis J. Rhodes
Read 619 times
Written on 2007-05-21 at 16:38
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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