Breathing in, Breathing out

I was going to take a breather tonight. No writing. Just lurk a little and poke through some other blogs, then head to bed. Sleep through the night instead of writing through it. But the faded and stained key board would not let me. Ideas and twists I read on other's sites would not let me. The music I picked would not let me. All of them conspiring to rob me of much needed shut eye. Is it that I want to create or just not go to sleep?

Now that I am in one of my mild manic states, sleeping doesn't cut it. I have to stay up until fatigue and exhaustion leave me in a heap. One shoe on, one shoe off. Spread eagle on the floor, couch, or veranda, I run until I'm rung out. Yeah, sleeping is for losers. Sleeping is paying no mind or even the slighest attention to anything but breathing in, breathing out.

REM time is a fine time.
For heads on plush pillows
and bodies wrapped in soft quilts.
But I have no time
For those unremembered moments
behind shut eyes and closed mind.

Need to think the next great
thought, reason,or rhyme.
It is bound to pop up
If all night I stay up

The moment will come
The question that eats me
The answer I seek
That has always left me dumb
Will become evident
At a quarter to one
And quite clear to me
By a quarter after three.

But I better hurry
Not waste any time
I'll be face down on the floor
By a quarter to four.