Old nightshift poems

Insanity like a panther
paces around
its cranial cage...
At night she hears
the soft rhythmic padding
of its
velvety paws...
it echos in her ears
causing her
to doubt her sanity.

(You know how when you lay on your pillow and you can hear your heart beating in your ears? that is that the poem is describing)
*****************************

I dance with Yarrow
under painted sky
warrior wears buck's skin
and deer is naked upon the plain
I wear doe's skin
she is naked now
who will wear my skin
when its my turn
to dance naked
on the plains.

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Deposition

The words tumble out awkwardly
on blue lined paper
wait...
that is not what I meant to say!
in ink
no erasure, no voiding
permanent.
forever.
for all time.
She rips the paper
violently
guiltily
crunches it, concealing it
digesting it
destroying it...
confessions of a writer
author at large.

*****************

(Working night, and functioning on limited or zero sleep can create a wonderful thing called sleep deprivation psychosis. This following poem I wrote on one such night. The night shift would amuse ourselves by writing goofy poems and this night I was particular full of no sleep and goofiness.)

What the 'ell?

No heaven or hell
no William Tell
or Howard Cosell
no church bell
or farmer in the dell
to holler and yell
about cousin Nell
who has fell
into the well
while she tried to sell
spermicidal jell.

(c) 8-22-1988
*****************

Keepsake chest

A broken chain
Two hairs from a stallions mane
Three shards from a shattered window pane
an old man's twisted cane
two cups of winter rain
three flowers from Harbeck lane
an arrow from a weather vane
two cards from cousin Jane
three words spoken in vain
a "nothing to gain"
two ounces of horrible pain
three chances of becoming insane

(c) December 19, 1987

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I don't write poems any more. I don't know why. I got married and I stopped. Though you can hear the poetic rhythms in my writing.

I am not functioning very well on the generic thyroid medication. :(  I have an appt for next week to see if the doctor can help. I am jotting down things to blog about and have a few things I plug away on when the brain fog isn't too crippling.

I am looking forward to having time in September to get back to writing. However I am enjoying my summer with my kids. I am not enjoying the over the top anxiety and other physical effects of the hypothyroidism.

I think I might even give in to the anxiety and let it write tomorrow night. I have drafted 2 complete blogs recently and then deleted them I am just ...way off base line.

I hate feeling like poo.