Saturday, July 2, 2011

Day Slave

Oh day, my day, the only day I know
Oh, morning, you have no mercy
Waking me so abruptly
With no regard of how I slept or if I slept at all
Or if my body`s tired, battered, sore
You come in, casting your light
Burning my eyes with sunshine
Always making me seem displeased
With your presence--arriving so early
Always making me look grumpy and lazy
While others around anticipate your coming
Rejoice with fresh brewed coffee and crispy French bread-
That went into the oven at 4a.m
Right when I was beginning to fall asleep
After tossing and turning for hours, restlessly
Or having gotten up once, twice, three times
To add lines to a poem I`m working on
Oh, day, fierce, powerful, holy, Godly (some might say)
How can I fight you—you always arrive whether I’m ready or not
A 9 to 5 soul might not understand my disdain, my fear of day
But a self consuming Poet knows my battle with mornings
A shameless insomniac-
The dark night is my hiding place (my escape)
While the day is a reality show I never signed to be a part of
Good days seldom come, scarce memories of pleasant mornings
Too few to change my attitude, to give me fortitude
It`s usually just a sticky bog where everywhere I step I get stuck
With ghosts pulling at my feet-
Wanting me to live their lives for them
And so I prefer the night, where the creatures are out in plain view
With their names displayed in name tags or in books-
On dusty shelves in public libraries
Or in the paranormal section at Amazon-
Their identities exposed for everyone to see
Seek, address them or hide in fear
The creatures of night don`t hide in the light as day monsters do-
Do-gooders running around, granting favors to friends and strangers
While their parents rot in nursing homes
And their kids scream in locked closets-
Where I can`t see them but only feel their agony
And hear their desperate pleas
Oh, day, of creating, building living space
Or destroying to build parking space
Day of creating solutions to problems we made yesterday
Oh, day, of new dates, couple meetings-
Cheating, leaving and heartbreak
Oh, day, of work, of hard labor-
Of stress, of wasting health to buy health products-
Protein shakes, exercise equipment, gym memberships, vitamins
Day of working to buy and buy and buy…
A new home, a new car, a new phone, a new bride…
Oh, day, of building-
Of stacking brick on top of brick to build a happy life
Oh, day, I know nothing about
The day I know is invasive, pervasive
Always catching me by surprise--
Giving start to a routine I was not made to adapt
The day that comes in and destroys everything I`ve built at night
The day that picks me up by my feet, flips me upside down
And shakes everything I stand for out!
The day that comes and takes the peace-
I struggled to create the previous evening
And revives the ghosts I slay with the help of friends and sanity
This is the day I know-
The day that commands my nature and contradicts my heart
This is the day I know-
The day that enslaves my soul and makes me work purposelessly
The day that distracts me from my purpose; passion; poetry



  1. Cool! Self-consuming poet=a kind of perpetual-motion machine...a spiral. Thanks for the poem!

  2. "This is the day I know- The day that commands my nature and contradicts my heart..."

    Love this line. Great job, Amanda! Very honest and real.


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