Poetry

When in Desire for Sleep

‘… a cry shrieks out …’

when time strikes midnight voices on the street echo late night early morning monotone. the radio’s black-and-white hum of the shipping forecast a questionable meditation for a half-arsed sleep.

bright-white lights worry tightly closed curtains one’s inner-chamber fooled into daylight-hours waking time. where a hush stutters loud. and muted conversations rise into whines of inebriated banter. tiresome traffic growling to a stilted sort of creep.

when a cry shrieks out

the barrier between insomnia and something close to sleeping shatters like a painful pane of glass.

the screech of a child with the wail of such magnitude indescribably piercing to one’s skull.

a nightmare

for the half-conscious mind grappling with reality. pulling blinds wide. the window sash opening

to two fox-faces in merciful annoyance. wide-eyed and stupefied. this human ruining their moment — of lust.

© Sally A Mortemore 2023. All Rights Reserved.

Thank you for reading 🙏

And with many thanks to Thomas Gaudex and Scribe for being a safe place to publish.

Note: ‘inner-chamber’ — the part of the brain called the Thalamus is very often described as the ‘gateway to the cerebral cortex’. Thalamus is also a Greek word meaning inner chamber. Light bulbs on the streets of London have been changed to the very bright-white light bulbs banned in many European countries because they disrupt sleep patterns. The reason for changing them is to use less power.