The Insomniac Who Drew The Head Of A Sheep Wildly On A White Paper
the insomniac's heart is bleeding. she is in pain tonight like the other past night.
she thinks she is dying right on her own bed. changing positions. finding the right way to sleep. she could not find it. she is lost in the darkness of this loneliness. she goes naked towards the refrigerator to get a cold glass of water.
ice cubes. water rushing to the glass. clicking sound of glass and another glass.
coldness rushing to her esophagus. Coldness multiplying in her burning heart. her blankets burning. She could not sleep tonight. She gets a white paper, a pen and begings to scribble her life: wildly, some lines run. Shaping the head of a sheep. one. two. three. four. five. Five eyes. She stops. She needs five eyes to see everything. Awake. The ceiling where the lizards grow to become alligators on the plywood swamp. No grasses but cobwebs of sleepy spiders.
Five Jacks are hidden on the ears. On the ears are hairs of corn. Blonde. On the nose are paper clips. With them, she is cruel. Then she hides a bull inside her pharynx, the one that shits inside her mouth. She stinks. The bull makes a call for desire. For lust. She closes it with the prison wall of her teeth and gums and lips. Her lips are sealed now. All the five eyes are open throughout the night. Looking for love. Love is not found. Her heart bleeds. Stains of blood penetrate the white paper.
She had not slept for five nights. She will add another five eyes. She knows
if this happens again and again, she will die. She pretends that she is strong.
She will not forget these nights. Preludes to her death. She writes some hieroglyphics all over the empty spaces of the white paper. She will not forget
what each line and curve and sharp edges mean. She codes them. She writes the date 9.2.2008.
She does not put her name. It is enough that no one knows and remembers.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
An Empty Glass
an empty glass on the table
we stare at each other tonight
and i theorize on its emptiness
is it fed up with water?
was it drunk the other night and
would not take any liquor?
we stare at each other tonight
my hands holding on my chest
i bite my lips with my teeth
something seeps inside my mouth
i hesitate to swallow it
there is still this fear about substance
something that is alienating
my heart is quenched of its fire
there is only the coldness
of tranquility
something to drink from an empty glass
something that caresses
i shall take it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Glass Of Water Please
and so the story wants to end itself with a
glass of water.
those who cry after always need
a glass of water.
those whose hearts are broken
those who sob
those who close the window of the niche
those who have nightmares
those who wake up at 3 o'clock in the morning
those who sit on bed and cannot sleep back
always go to the kitchen
open the refrigerator
get a glass and splash
a cold glass of water
this time, i am asking for a glass of water
for i could be
all of the above or you could be one of those
i have described
but who knows we are not one of those
who knows
we are but just anyone who is normally thirsty
and with nothing to ask
simply ask
for a glass of cold water.
and cheerfully, we do not forget to say
please....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Little Disturbed
at 2: 01 in the morning
you switch on the light
a little bit dim
not to hurt your eyes
and you get out of bed
naked
you open the door
towards the kitchen
and get a glass of water
you drink
you want to satisfy thirst
wetting your tongue
and gargling the coldness
swallowing it gently
feeling this creeping
coldness to your
throat down
to your abdomen
something is burning
inside
and the water is
not killing it
you sit and think
a while and stare
at the light
there is nothing there
except the glare
now you wonder
sleep is still nowhere
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Paper Boat On A Murky River
on your hand is a paper boat
you made last night
on a rainy day like this
you put on a gray rain coat
the river rises
perfect for your scheme
you put the boat gently
on the brown water
white paper boat
carried by this murkiness
your hands push
the paper boat leaves
tonight you sleep on
the wooden floor
it is mahogany brown and you
become the paper boat
sailing inside your dream
the floor becomes the big river
your thoughts become the wind
your eyes become two moons
the room is as dark as the night
the dream is so alive like a mother's song.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Paper Cuts
I stand and look at this uniform in discust
paper cuts. Paper cuts. Can you see my paper cut?
Soon. Soon this uniform will touch my open skin.
I go to sleep but suddenly I awake to the morning,
in this trench I hear the sound of guns, the rain is falling,
like myself,
my uniform is discovering blood from and because of my guts,
you thought a poets biggest pain was a paper cut?
You never knew that I knew pain
don't you know that I know pain all too well
well, I know it well like the devil knows hell
well, like a drug dealer who knows how to sell
like a life sentence inside a cell,
you cant touch the pain I feel the pain I felt.
Quiker than the bullit the word spreads
so take your shot make sure you dont waste it
bullit to bone word to mouth I can taste it.
You aim towards no mans land, you stand behind the barb wire
you are the boss and the bullits are your emplyees that you must fire
you are a soldier a soldier that holds great desire
this war is one big debit card that will one day expire
although there isnt a date, I can see a gate. I can see you.
I can see you being led astray by propaganda
you are talking but I can not understand ya. I can see you.
I can see you firing your final round.
I can see that movie moment the one with slow motion and no sound.
I can see you from here. Up here, up high in the sky, down on the ground.
I can see you. You are sat with me in the mud. You speak.
Your eyes shut,
they open like the notepad but the words open up a much deeper cut.
I look. I see. I look at your uniform, I see your guts,
I see your blood.
We sit here with open eyes, the amminition flies through the sky.
Paper cuts. Paper cuts. I sit still as you stand on the front line,
I close my eyes as I realize the blood on your uniform, was infact mine.
poem by Daniel McCann
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A Kingfisher On A Dead Tree
on a glass pond
a dead tree stands
perched is a kingfisher
on one of its weak twigs
i sit alone on a
rock thinking about nothing
i must have been lost
this day
blue wings and some
white feathers on the neck
black sharp beak
the kingfisher looks at me
a leaf falls on the glass pond
the eyes of the kingfisher
and my eyes ride on the ripple
like small paper boats
going nowhere
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Dreams
Spare a little candle
Save some light for me
Figures up ahead
Moving in the trees
White skin in linen
Perfume on my wrist
And the full moon that hangs over
These dreams in the mist
Darkness on the edge
Shadows where I stand
I search for the time
On a watch with no hands
I want to see you clearly
Come closer than this
But all I remember
Are the dreams in the mist
These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away
Is it cloak n dagger
Could it be spring or fall
I walk without a cut
Through a stained glass wall
Weaker in my eyesight
The candle in my grip
And words that have no form
Are falling from my lips
These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away
There's something out there
I can't resist
I need to hide away from the pain
There's something out there
I can't resist
The sweetest song is silence
That I've ever heard
Funny how your feet
In dreams never touch the earth
In a wood full of princes
Freedom is a kiss
But the prince hides his face
From dreams in the mist
These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away
These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away
song performed by by Heart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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His Loneliness
he undresses himself and
slides inside a tub of water
he buries his head to gain
the coolness of the water
he places his hands on the side
and looks beyond the glass windows
there the trees are green and the
clouds are blue and the sun is brighter
he closes his eyes and lies still
around his body are the foams and scents
he stops awhile for some thoughts
she is still there inside his mind
how can he ever forget her?
how long shall she stay inside his heart?
how can he be so powerless in this?
how can she be so beautiful still despite the years?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One On One With An Empty Glass
the final confrontation is finally set on the table
the mantel still pretends to be clean
the morsels are polite and the empty glass is civil
just a while ago, it was filled with water
up to the brim and now it is thirsty again
and it stares at me begging for more
but i give it silence hoping that it shall remember
what origin it has
from the department store
it stares at me and threatens me with the pain of emptiness
it does not move
giving me the semblance of an earth that stops to spin
nothing falls and the possibility of freezing is pestering me
i lay my hand on the chest telling it that i am not at all disturbed
i listen to the rhythmic beatings of my heart
i bite my lips like bread using my teeth
i close my eyes and begin my journey inward
my gut
i remember the sound of the broken glass
i recall how i sweep the shattered pieces
i still picture myself digging a hole and burying what should be forgotten
i do not sleep and i do not dream much
i breathe more air and then i awaken all my senses
the glass is empty still and it is there to manifest a surrender
i have learned to fill my lungs with air
the moments pass away taking all that i have and now
i am full.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do You Close Your Eyes
do you close your eyes when you kiss me
do you close your eyes if you miss me
and do you wonder why
i sent for you tonight
do you wonder why
golden bells are ringing in the year
through all the tears you cried for me
i always knew you could
so hide inside your looking-glass surprise
the lies become the truth you hide
the lies become the lusty night
do you close your eyes when you kiss me
do you close your eyes if you miss me
and do you wonder why
i sent for you tonight
do you wonder why
do you dream your dreams when you're with me
and do you see the things that i see
and is it true enough
is it true of love
secrets cloud your ears and fill your nights
with compromise and shadows torn
you make your way to him
the moon becomes your silent confidant
the one you want will stand alone
the one you love is never known
do you close your eyes when you kiss me
do you close your eyes if you miss me
and do you wonder why
i sent for you tonight
do you wonder why
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Roses On White Lace
I saw you in your wedding gown
The prettiest dress
I came into the room that night
And made such a mess
In my own way, I lovingly kiss the bride
With your ring in your hand
Your eyes and your mouth open wide
In my eyes
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
They won't wash away
In my mind they're roses on white lace
Straight from the heart
So dead upon the bed
You hurt me in the deepest way
I'm crippled inside
I took your evil skin away
It's all cut and dried
I saw you tonight and carefully took your hand
With some smears on my cheeks
I knew that you would understand
In my eyes
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
They won't wash away
In my mind they're roses on white lace
Straight from the heart
So dead upon the bed, still searching for your head
They're never gonna find your face
It's hidden away
I found a very special place where you used to play
In my own way, I lovingly kiss the bride
With your ring in your hand
Your eyes and your mouth open wide
In my eyes
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
They won't wash away
In my mind they're roses on white lace
Straight from the heart
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
Crimson and sweet, stained on the sheet
Roses on white lace, pretty in red, dripping and wet
Roses on white lace, spilled on the walls, dark in the hall
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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90
your eyes in that picture insist on asking why
well, i was yet 15 but i already keep a photograph of you
in my pocket,
you are the face of my heart beat in black and white
i often kiss your tiny lips and put you on my chest
as though i feel you one with me
in my sleep,
that was long time ago and the picture suffered
with the way i was keeping it
inside my old poetry books
in those pages eaten by bookworms
some scratches ultimately
are inflicted in your cheeks
and even your lips
have become empty spaces
blurred by time
what keeps insistent however are your eyes
stripped of a nose and lips and even a neck
thriving on lesser hair
and thin ears
they float in that picture
still looking at me
asking
why?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Last
these fingers so frail paint in my mind
scars down the back of my eyes
death walks with me alone tonight
the coldness whispers it's almost near
rest for soon it will be over
years flash before my and i understand why i'm here
no one will ever know, as the pictures come clear
don't worry they tell me this feeling won't last forever
voices beating their drums in my heart
the water looks so peaceful below and the struggle lets go
climbing over the wall of life's edge
leaving behind the smiles of yesterday
the light that shined has vanished to a grayscale of night
tears once present now look into the dryness inside
silent words enter the sky screamed
from this body as a reply, and these words begin to write
dear lord, if these break the earth
and enter your courts save me tonight
time is short and the hurt of death grows with every breath
here i am at the end
this wall that blocked you out for so long opens wide
and i begin to burn from the inside
i'll never forget that night
the night Jesus Christ made the blackness white..
song performed by by Underoath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Upon this paper my life is written
Upon this paper my life is written,
a tree doubled over in pain.
The red ink flows over the skin,
full stops and commas are hair and stars:
eyes of sea left on ships,
destroyed houses, rusting girders.
This paper is as black as the storm,
destroyed villages where there is no fiesta.
This paper burns as reason does,
lightning in the sky flashes in its millions.
This paper is a sky where there is no God,
this paper is alone…
this paper does not fly…
this paper… it is I.
poem by Menotti Lerro from The Poetry of Menotti Lerro (2011), translated by Andrew Mangham, Maria Rosaria La Marca
Submitted by anonym
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It's Dangerous Business Walking Out Your Front Door
I've been up at this all night long
I've been drowning in my sleep
I've prayed for your safe place
And its time for us to leave
Time is running on empty and the gas is running out
I've decided that tonight is the night
That I set love aside
Full speed ahead this seems to be the place
I've seen this once before
Planned perfection sought in my dreams
Hoping this would take you home
My knuckles have turned to white
There's no turning back tonight
So kiss me one last time
Around this turn where
The cross will cast your shadow
The people will all gather
To remember such a day where the flames grew as high
As trees
And the world stopped for you and me
My knuckles have turned white
There's no turning back tonight
So hold on tight
Kiss me one last time
Shut your eyes
I will now bring new meaning to the word alone
Endless nights of dreaming of life
And the days we should have spent here
Drowning in my sleep I'm drowning in my sleep
Glass shatters and comes to a halt
I thought we'd be there by now
I thought it would be so much quicker than this
Pain has never been so brilliant
I made sure you were buckled in
Now you can walk hand in hand with him
song performed by by Underoath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your Eyes In That Picture Insist On Asking Why
well, i was yet 15 but i already keep a photograph of you
in my pocket,
you are the face of my heart beat in black and white
i often kiss your tiny lips and put you on my chest
as though i feel you one with me
in my sleep,
that was long time ago and the picture suffered
with the way i was keeping it
inside my old poetry books
in those pages eaten by bookworms
some scratches ultimately
are inflicted in your cheeks
and even your lips
have become empty spaces
blurred by time
what keeps insistent however are your eyes
stripped of a nose and lips and even a neck
thriving on lesser hair
and thin ears
they float in that picture
still looking at me
asking
why?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lily's Silent Tears
Each night Lily lay down her weary head
She pulled her pillow closer
Turned her face buried it deep as it soaked up all the silent tears
She cried, she begged,
She wished she hoped but most of all she closed her eyes and prayed
From the corners of her closed eyes a tear escaped….two… three….till she set them all free
Lily cried herself to sleep night after night
Crying over life and love lost
Time slipped by
High above in the heavens one night
There way up above you and I
Upon the brightest star
Sat he
Writing away his heart
He felt a tremor run through his heart
He heard a distant cry
He closed his eyes and there deep within the beauty of his loving heart He saw that tear
One silent solitary sad burning tear that bore so much pain
He closed his eyes and wished and willed
To see the owner of the tear
The silent tear that caused the tremor in his heart
He found Lily lying on her pillow crying herself to sleep
He reached out and touched her
Soothed her healed her loved her
Her days filled with warmth
Her nights filled with moonlight and love
Then one cold night he left a tremor in her heart
With unspoken word
He told her
He loved her
They were friends
But
He could never love her in the same way that she loved him
For his heart was already taken
Night after night once again Lily lays her head upon her faithful pillow
Night after night once gain she cries herself to sleep
Night after night once again she feels the tremor inside her heart
But
Night after night he feels the tremor of another
After Watching A Trailer Of Amelie
the piano plays in the dark
it is inside my mind
every note of it
i see the old man still on his trembling fingers
the sound of his music clings in the ears
of my heart
she died a long time ago
it is his inability to accept things as they are
that makes his fingers sing
it is this sadness in his heart
that makes his solitude as beautiful as ever
verily like the face of the woman he loves
it is this darkness that keeps all lights open
dusk, twilights, trailing blazes of needles of peeping light
penetrating the shutters of his window
at the end when he dies
i look at the face of the room again
stained with so much sorrow
artistically
priced without much value
the onlookers laugh
i don't
precisely i know the story and i want to write
this one
all over again
not on paper but inside my mind
my soul is the pen
my heart bleeds on paper
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I write these lines upon a sheet of paper
I write these lines upon a sheet of paper
That someone made from what was once a forest
Without much thought (as I suspect) for nature:
Does this not fill my heart with guilty sorrow?
Or is its lifeblood more akin to water
That runs in rivers under cloud and sunshine?
Why am I so affected by the sunshine?
All that I do - whether I read the paper,
Or, being thirsty, drink a glass of water,
Or walk amid the tall trees of the forest,
If there's no sun, my mind is fill'd with sorrow,
And if it shines, gladness is in my nature.
But gladness is not always in the nature
Of all terrestrial things, whether the sunshine
Dispels from my own mind some part of sorrow
For many men and creatures, as the paper
I read informs me, live within a forest
Of woe, and some have not a dropp of water.
One dropp of that mysterious liquid, water,
Would save a living animal, by nature,
Whether it dwelt in pasture or in forest,
However little it received of sunshine,
It cannot be exprest by lines on paper
How marv'llously that liquid quenches sorrow.
How much may we, the lucky living, sorrow,
For those who have been drown'd by cruel water,
The greater part of whom are not on paper
Recorded: but the cruelty of Nature
Alone knows. May their souls in heavenly sunshine
Be rested, and walk peaceful through that forest.
I think that life itself is like the forest,
A dark one, where one knows not whether sorrow
Will come, or else a glade o'erspread by sunshine,
That suddenly becomes a fall of water
That patters down in raindrops, in its nature.
Will those trees bloom or turn to crumpled paper?
I'll use no further paper from the forest:
My nature does not wish for you to sorrow,
But sit by flowing water in the sunshine.
poem by David Mitchell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Outside331’sSleep
Don’t open your eyes yet not until I explain last night I went to bed with Sleep last night I fell for Sleep last night Sleep unclothed me left me naked in a room painted black I couldn’t see Sleep because Sleep was dark too and the room was black and the foreground blended in with the background I couldn’t tell what was far and what was close I became frustrated because Sleep was either hiding inside the room or the room was hiding behind Sleep neither were being fair to my eyes who wanted to play hide and go Sleep I hide inside the room and Sleep seeks I said where are you Sleep I can’t see you my eyes can’t find you Sleep I said I wanted to fall inside you brought me into this black room and I am trying to wrap myself around you won’t you come inside of me you won’t stage scenes in my eyes created with color everything is black one long stretch Sleep are you moving and I can’t see you or are you standing still and I can’t feel you are here Sleep you are silent Sleep I feel alone Sleep I want you to be inside me if you take me to a black room and make me go to bed are your eyes open I can’t see you did you leave is Sleep here Sleep am I inside you explain Sleep explain did you open your eyes Sleep are my eyes open Sleep are you outside me Sleep you took me to bed and left me Sleep I can’t open my eyes until you are back inside me I can’t see Sleep when you’re not inside me open your eyes Sleep do you see me inside you explain last night am I still inside Sleep?
(12-13-07)
poem by Chelsea Trescott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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