waking up in the middle of a poem

I do not dream poetry

my bones speak it
while I sleep

pipe sound
like a fugued whisper
murmuring through veins
quiet as blood
but more metered,
carried to where
words are shaped awake

before dreams snap closed
completely
and eyelids open
lips framing
the phrase over
and over

without glasses on
writing blind
before the image
melts in sunlight

 

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About Susan L Daniels

I am a firm believer that politics are personal, that faith is expressed through action, and that life is something that must be loved and lived authentically--or why bother with any of it?
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20 Responses to waking up in the middle of a poem

  1. boomiebol says:

    I am loving your poems today :). Loving

  2. unfetteredbs says:

    LOVE LOVE this

  3. Rhonda says:

    so that’s your solution? writing blind? well, it works! :) love this.

  4. Reblogged this on The Sand County and commented:
    Ahh, she’s captured something here!

  5. This is just superb. You have really grabbed something here (something ephemeral and delicate but puckish) and made it your own. I love this. You do justice to both poetry and dreams here, which is such a lovely and rare thing. This is one of my favorites.

  6. To quote the Canadian rock musician Kim Mitchell: “Damn! I wish I wrote this!”

  7. Ian Moone says:

    Liking it muchly

  8. robbiehad says:

    I really enjoyed this, thank you!

  9. ‘I do not dream poetry
    my bones speak it
    while I sleep
    pipe sound
    like a fugued whisper
    murmuring through veins
    quiet as blood
    but more metered,
    carried to where
    words are shaped awake’

    Words fail me, Susan.

  10. piaspurpose says:

    “my bones speak it
    while I sleep” – i love this bit. write write and write some more!

  11. Deborah Avila says:

    really really really wonderful Dear~ blessings Deb

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