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Insomnia and the Poet

In today's New York Times' Sunday Review, a professor of English and creative writing at U. VA muses about whether poets' insomnia is caused by poetic hyper-arousal or disordered breathing and concludes that "there is nothing, finally, inspiring about a protracted spell of insomnia."  I have my take on that subject in a couple of my poems:



Words begone! Begone I say!

Tonight I’ll not come out to play

Save it for the light of day


Some, I hear, just count sheep

As one by one over fence they leap

Till boredom puts them right to sleep


Words don’t, won’t work that way

They dance, sing, and while away

The entire night to dawn of day


Not so bad if they go home

Gather together to form a poem

Only then does silence come


And in silence speak their power

That, and the lateness of the hour,

Allows poem, poet, and sleep to flower.




Too much blood do I spill

It slips and drips from my quill

And will not let me sleep until

Words with me have had their fill. 


When I put down my pen

Never to pick it up again

‘cause I’ve nothing left to say

Now that will be a blissful day!



Vocation: Wall Street Trial Lawyer (Retired)
Avocation: Poetry and Poetics
Studied poetry with Jose Garcia Villa 1970-1997
Writer and Publisher of Poetry


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Guest Tuesday, 20 February 2018