Posted in Poetry

Circadian Stone

What cranial pillow-deep tows
my skull over the headboard
down into some unnamed hematoma
of sleep, a back-flip in the pool
where the shelter of trees grasp
the air that divides their knotty
fingers, lingers overhead
in the up-stares where eyes
roll backward, reluctant
to let go of the animation
of awareness?

Gasping, I rise
only to sink,
a stone on its final
skip.

 

© Jilly  All Rights Reserved

Posting on Open Link Night at dVerse.

The October edition of Casting Bricks to Attract Jade, collaborative poetry challenge, opens Friday, October 6th.  Everyone is welcome to join in !               ~Cheers!  Jilly 

 

Author:

A wild soul writing poetry.

34 thoughts on “Circadian Stone

  1. So clever – I love how the dream’s images intrude even while the narrator is complaining and then the breathless running together of images taking you down: ‘sleep, a back-flip in the pool / where the shelter of trees grasp / the air’ Terrific stuff.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Your poem speaks the nightmarish tale of sleep out of kilter. “…tows / my skull over the headboard / down into some unnamed hematoma / of sleep….” Your words dance darkly what it feels like to have your rhythm thrown off. Good one, Jilly! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Wow, Frank, your comment made me go back and look at what I wrote. The Japanese forms seem to elude and baffle me at times and I hadn’t thought of this one as fitting that. That pleases me more than I can tell you! (Doing my end-zone dance!!)

      Liked by 1 person

  3. This is horrible. Horrible in it’s accuracy. The sleep of no sleep. Makes me shudder.The sinking stone for me is that point when having struggled to sleep all night you give up, fall asleep and miss your alarm call.

    Liked by 1 person

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