In Response to a Poet’s Love Song of 1/24/17

S. Francis of SAILORPOET responds to A Poet’s Love Song. I think I’m smitten with this poem.

To Be Determined

My body now wakes up on its own at 4am
Somehow, transformed from insomnic
To discover the backside of night
And find it as pleasing as Goldilocks
Found the third bed eating the third porridge.
When I talk to the old poet in my journals
Or in files found on my computer that don’t
Remember being written, he chuckles at the
Absurdity of the idea of me waking early
To do anything other than take a piss.

My body now wakes up on its own at 4am
The acoustics of this silence are similar
Yet so very different. Waking creatures
Are more for meditations like these than
The beasts that haunt hours that aren’t stilled
Inside a heart that hears only its own beating
As it tells tales that ache with longing, with pain
That never really was felt, only misunderstood.
This depth, this texture, this darkness marks
The underside…

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