insomnia isn't real

wipe the sleep from my eyes
i am done with lying dead for a few hours
i know if i can hold off sleep enough
i will wake up from this dream
hook me up to the coffee machine
plug some Metallica in my ears
give me something spicy to eat
tonight, i do not want to sleep
but no matter how much I shoo the sandman away
he still creeps up and behind me with sandy fingers
i turn around in my chair to catch him unaware
but where was a ghost, not just a shadow lingers
so i'll put my head to the pillow tonight
with one eye open, other shut tight
and i'll count the sheep till 50 thousand
till i see the morning light
--
Yawn.

sleep and other maladies

i should've been woke,
woke as fuck
but i sleep with my eyes open
a sitting duck

world moves around me
a blurred contraception
i spin sitting in place
a totem in my own inception

when i dare open my eyes
at times i feel so sick
i just want to lie down back
in my pod in some matrix

i will watch the world go by
as civilization crumble, men die
i will wake up in a thousand years or two
maybe i'll wake up with

---
sleep is a problem in these troubled times.

descent

i lie down in my bed
the mattress splits up under me
to swallow me whole
like a sinkhole in space
for a peaceful moment
i am free from all the cold
the hate that fulminates
the anger and the rage
for a blissful moment
i turn the page
and then
(oh then)
a stray draft of cold air
silently creeps into my warm lair
it tickles my feet
crawls up my legs
as try to dream of futures
in coffee dregs
the bed spits me out again
confused, disoriented, i am in pain
so much pain
i just went to sleep 1 minute ago
why do i have to wake up again?
---
Where did I read the word fulminate today? I don't know, but i like this word.
This poem is for all those who hate getting out of bed on cold mornings.