Insomnia OR Never Let a Sandman Wear You Down.
The world's differences in socio-cultural-religious and political affairs have always had much to answer for, and one thing in common - a penchant for inviting insomnia...
INSOMNIA or NEVER LET A SANDMAN WEAR YOU DOWN
Tossing and turning, unable to sleep,
a desperate yearning for peace
of mind - but they are unkind to me,
the pillows, the sheets, a mattress
that sags in the middle; eerie shadows
on the ceiling, spiders on the wall,
strange noises rising from the floor,
sounds of partying next door
(I was not invited by the way, slighted
as ever, could it be because I'm gay,
surely not? The twenty-first 21st century
is well under way for heaven's sake,
though you wouldn’t think so for tragic
goings-on in countries like Iraq
So what’s wrong with me that people
always seem to be taking the piss,
leaving me tossing and turning, unable
to sleep, desperate for some peace?
Maybe I should try harder to be nice
or could it be I’m trying too hard,
need to devote more time to listening
instead of being wise after events,
mis taking media pundits for mentors’?
Mind you, at least I have opinions
worth voicing (surely?) less than happy
to settle for recycling everyday gossip
thrown out by Mr, Mrs and Ms Average
so the neighbours can have a say
Ah, neighbours, bless 'em all, the short,
tall and obese, not just keeping up
with the Jones' (and how!) but some keen
to put their money wheresoever mouths
open and shut like constipated goldfish
inviting advertising moguls to get in
on the act, vying to take over the show,
various media pundits busy partying
in Corridors of Power, confusing issues,
(incidentally boosting sales of tissues)
inciting Mr Mrs and Ms to exhibitionism
(credit card fetishism?) as if anyone
really cares but for feeling a need to take
re-evaluate their own affairs, if only to see
if they can (surely?) go one better
It has to be said, most of us are easily led
by any old halter, cattle to slaughter;
Note, I didn’t say ‘sheep’ - the exclusive
property of those unable to sleep
for sweating over, oh, such pretty lambs
(thanks, Mother Nature, you're a star)
therefore not in the same blanket category
as Average and Jones who'll never
lose any sleep over Dolly clones, let alone
war in Iraq, North Korea's intentions,
Human Rights globally, poverty everywhere,
not to mention the likes of that double act,
Bush and Blair, with whom the history books
will hopefully more than get even
Alas, it will all keep, while the rest of us toss
and turn, trying to get some sleep
Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2019
[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title Insomnia in The Third Eye by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004.]
Tossing and turning, unable to sleep,
a desperate yearning for peace
of mind - but they are unkind to me,
the pillows, the sheets, a mattress
that sags in the middle; eerie shadows
on the ceiling, spiders on the wall,
strange noises rising from the floor,
sounds of partying next door
(I was not invited by the way, slighted
as ever, could it be because I'm gay,
surely not? The twenty-first 21st century
is well under way for heaven's sake,
though you wouldn’t think so for tragic
goings-on in countries like Iraq
So what’s wrong with me that people
always seem to be taking the piss,
leaving me tossing and turning, unable
to sleep, desperate for some peace?
Maybe I should try harder to be nice
or could it be I’m trying too hard,
need to devote more time to listening
instead of being wise after events,
mis taking media pundits for mentors’?
Mind you, at least I have opinions
worth voicing (surely?) less than happy
to settle for recycling everyday gossip
thrown out by Mr, Mrs and Ms Average
so the neighbours can have a say
Ah, neighbours, bless 'em all, the short,
tall and obese, not just keeping up
with the Jones' (and how!) but some keen
to put their money wheresoever mouths
open and shut like constipated goldfish
inviting advertising moguls to get in
on the act, vying to take over the show,
various media pundits busy partying
in Corridors of Power, confusing issues,
(incidentally boosting sales of tissues)
inciting Mr Mrs and Ms to exhibitionism
(credit card fetishism?) as if anyone
really cares but for feeling a need to take
re-evaluate their own affairs, if only to see
if they can (surely?) go one better
It has to be said, most of us are easily led
by any old halter, cattle to slaughter;
Note, I didn’t say ‘sheep’ - the exclusive
property of those unable to sleep
for sweating over, oh, such pretty lambs
(thanks, Mother Nature, you're a star)
therefore not in the same blanket category
as Average and Jones who'll never
lose any sleep over Dolly clones, let alone
war in Iraq, North Korea's intentions,
Human Rights globally, poverty everywhere,
not to mention the likes of that double act,
Bush and Blair, with whom the history books
will hopefully more than get even
Alas, it will all keep, while the rest of us toss
and turn, trying to get some sleep
Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2019
[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title Insomnia in The Third Eye by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004.]
Labels: anxiety, fear, global consciousness, human nature, human spirit, insomnia, life forces, mental health, negative thinking, nightmares, peace of mind, personal space, politics, positive thinking, sleep
posted by R. N. Taber | 15:01
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