Raisin’ A Ruckus

I want to destroy
the Morning
and give birth to
the Day

My stomach is churning
knuckles burning
with cessation
I am not prolific,
only a question

It’s five a.m.
I’m always the last awake

I like talking to myself
I like singing songs
I can See what can’t belong

I am everywhere
and the pain of
my biology
requires much contemplation
and my soul
is beyond
Divine Consultation

I leave a lot behind –
Is it poetic riddle
or a loss of sleep?

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s