Let us talk about insomnia
at 3:15 am. A dark bird sits on my bed
& wants to talk about his ambition. I am
curious, where does ambition come from?
Is it a seed that suddently grows into
giant tree out of my head? Is it a slow
painting of canvas, taking shape, defining my face?
The bird wants to climb Japan's Mount Fiji.
The bird wants the fancy feathers of peacock.
And fling himself to the moon.
His ambition is burning his feet after jumping
over fire stones after piercing the hornet's nest
Well I had enough of the bird chatter dream
I want to talk about my ambition - that
fire within me that refuses to die when an idea
Comes to me, like a buzzing bee
over the blooming yellow daffodils
Deafening sounds, lively chitter-chatter
As my heartbeat is running faster and
faster. Sleep is forgotten library book.
My feet are itching for calm after
leaping into the air, like a gazelle
bounding out to the open fields
My spine tingles as if a lover's touch
stole my sleepy head. Finally
dawn comes with pink hues and holds
a giant mirror to my small idea bulb,
now scribbled with crooked arrows. Will I survive
the scrunity of harsh reality? Dark bird, remind me
again, where does ambition come from?
Come to me in circles.
Come to me, piercing my bosom.
This is a really wonderful story of how the poem grows... it is a poem of a poem really in my view, the black bird wishing for peacock feathers is a great view.
ReplyDelete"Sleep is forgotten library book," yes .. this is such a powerful description of how insomnia truly is. Thank you so much for writing to the prompt, Grace 💖💖
ReplyDeleteI was wholly taken by the emblazoning imagery of bird, flower, fire, tree, enraptured by every detail, Grace. A brilliant poem, a gorgeous read,
ReplyDeleteYour poem speaks to me, Grace, as someone who wakes up pretty much every morning around 3:15 am. I love the idea of a dark bird sitting on your bed that ‘wants to talk about his ambition’, and the way that develops from a seed, to a painting, and all the things the bird wants to do or be! I also love the ‘aside’: ‘sleep is forgotten library book’.
ReplyDeleteI loved this. The bird keeping you from sleep wanting to talk about ambition made me chuckle. So good.
ReplyDeleteI love how evocative your poem is. The transition from the ambition of the bird to your own as poet is so striking! Beautiful write, Grace!
ReplyDeleteThis is fabulous, Grace! The burning ambition to write is metaphorically a chattering bird that keeps us awake...yes!
ReplyDeleteWELL, Dear Grace .... it's no wonder sleep escaped you! That chatterbox of a nuisance would not stop, however if it had ... we would not have your lovely poetry.
ReplyDeleteVery nicely done, Grace.
ReplyDeleteNice one
ReplyDeleteMuch♡love