Asleep

I wonder who's watching when we sleep
When we curl up to block in the heat
When arms touch arms and chest to cheek
New rhythms awaken as we breathe.

I wonder who listens to that new beat
Lungs expanding & contracting peacefully
Fitting into crevices like they were made for me
Arms tightening around you more securely

I wonder who reads my mind just then
And knows what hasn't been spoken
I wonder who slows down time a bit
Without either of us realizing it

I wonder who's watching when we sleep
Who sees me struggle to keep
My eyes shut tight a little longer
Determined that morning will not conquer

I wonder if there's a way that they
They could find a way for us to stay
Undisturbed a little bit
Curled up together just like this.

Strains

I'll play your songs till my ears start ringing
Till I can hear nothing but the echoes
Of the last time you sang them.
I'll play your songs at unsafe volumes
Till everything is silenced
And I can't hear them tell me
You'll never sing them again.

One Second, Three Haikus

1.
As time stops tonight
And the world tries to catch up
Heartache lasts longer

2.
Everything halts
Two hands hesitate in place
And the clock ticks on

3.
She moves on ahead
Seemingly unaffected
Midnight hour rings

Respite

Days come, and go away
Every day, that's how it stays
The monotonous expanse of
Day after day,
Today, tomorrow and possibly yesterday
But there's a difference, a little change
Between today and yesterday

When the sun sets on the monotony
And lights go on in the city
Suddenly, there's life
Where monotony used to be.

No longer lost in the glaring
The staring light of the nearest star
Dreams shimmer in the dusk
Shake off the day's dust
Beckoning to you, and you must
Respond

Because what else can you do?
When the promise of distraction
The brief respite of delusion
The break from the everyday
Calls you towards it?

The nights are the real deal
Where else lies the appeal of a world
Away from the drudgery
Of monotony?

My nights are mine to revel in
They're for imagining and  dreaming
They're stripped of logical reasoning
My nights are for me
To hope that I'm the dream that he
Goes to bed to see.

The Bed Next Door

The bed next door to me used to be

A comfy place to sleep in

Now it’s just a space

To store blankets and books and cats

Even the cats don’t go there any more, in fact

The bed next door to me is waiting

Waiting like a dog for the man of the house

Like a little child for its mother to awake so it can play

Like the breathless waiting for the final ball of the match

Waiting like a bed for the butt that’s supposed to lazily lie

And the slob that’s supposed to spend the mornings in it

Waiting for the mass of uncompromising lazy

And the comforting certainty of being worth something

The bed next door to me used to be a comfy place to sleep in

But now it’s a vacant waiting room

With vacant chairs

Occupied by vacant stares

Looking into vagueness for something that isn’t there

Waiting for the train to roll in

For the doctor to see you now

For the results of the entrance test that decides your future

The bed next door to me is a petulant little child

It refuses to wait

It throws off patience

It throws tantrums

It wails and stomps and screams

It demands

That you with the lazy butt

Come and calm the storm and sleep all day

And make it all better

Because the bed next door to me?

It’s annoying with its emptiness

And its unending waiting

Because it’s a bed, not a storage space

It deserves to be treated better than to be used

To store blankets and books and cats

Even the cats don’t go there any more, in fact.