in the middle
of morning’s
pre-dawn hours,
i awoke
with the first
of a poem
on the tip
of my consciousness..

somehow, i knew
it would be gone
into the first
wakening moment
of day..
instead of
rolling over
i should have
paid attention
and scribbled
it down

instead, sleep
called me back
and i followed
its lead..

i was right..
those lines escaped
the ship of me..
jumping overboard
into sleep’s
seas, it was
carried away
from my docks
of wakefulness…

disappearing into
the horizon
my thoughts
jumped ship
without me..
leaving in
silent mutiny

now, here i sit
stranded in
the empty waters
of morning
listing leeward
and ready to embark on
today’s journey..
i wonder now:
could this idea’s
existence have simply been
yet another
unchartered dream?

About lindalou5150

as exercise or exorcism, i write...for the eyes of others, for my eyes and heart only, for the love and the rage, i release the gamut of tell the truth and say what's often thought but not written...
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1 Response to idea

  1. Oh how I relate to this poem.

    So many “bon mots” lost
    In the clouds of semi-wakefulness,
    So many “perfect” phrases
    And poignant, logical conclusions
    Lost because of the power of sleep
    Over the power of self-discipline.
    Even with a pen and pad at the night stand,
    I stand accused
    Of merely imagining that
    I turned over to write them down
    And found guilty, sentenced
    To profundities lost forever.

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