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Poems On / About SLEEP  12/2/2015 12:56:02 AM
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Best Poems About / On SLEEP
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When the enemies surrounded their house,
their guns were sleeping tight
pouring oil into their noses.

When their mothers, sisters, wives and daughters
were getting raped together on the same bed,
their guns were sleeping tight
like Kumbhakarna.*

At last when they were attacked
and were being slaughtered like bulls
felling them on the ground,
still their guns were into deep sleep.

Someone, having come to them, said, 'Brethren,
kindly awake your guns now.'

They, setting hands on his mouth, said,
'By God, never utter such a word
and let the guns sleep peacefully
which way they are sleeping
and we want to see them sleeping this way;
even after the doomsday, we want to see that
no one has come to break their innocent sleep.'

* a mythical monster mentioned in the Indian epic Ramayana who slept six months at a stretch.
Sayeed Abubakar

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Sleep? Date Written 05/02/2008

I should sleep, my neck it tells me so
But there within the cold quilt I'm alone.
I should sleep and leave this vile machine now
But it calls me to caress its keys once more.

I don't sleep the way I really ought to
My words they need insomnia to live.
I don't sleep and my life becomes a muddle
But there's nothing I can do to right this wrong.

I need sleep, my body's hungry for it
For I know that in the morning I'll be tired.
I need sleep for a dream of someone near me
But it won't fill the space that's empty by my side.

I won't sleep and my eyes will become blackened
And my body will yearn for tender touch.
I won't sleep for I'm running out of time here
And life is precious time never recouped.
Clare McWilliams

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Sleepwalking Savant

I walk the streets in my sleep late into the night, no one knows I’m not awake and I never start a fight.
I make my way to the store to fill my grocery list, I’m always calm and keep my cool I never shake my fist.
I walk the aisles and check the shelves looking for a deal, even though I’m sleeping I’m sure I never steal.
Picking through the produce looking for the best, I never get distracted and I never need to rest.
I step up to the till with the money in my fist, as he scans the items I remove them from the list.
I do things in my sleep I could never do awake, people don’t believe me and think I’m just a fake.
Walking in my sleep I have no sense of conscience but shopping in my sleep is a silly kind of nonsense.
I finally wake and glance around looking for some clues, I feel so glad I’m at home and never made the news.
Rob Hyden

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My Baby Sleeps

The wind is loud in the west to-night,
But Baby sleeps;
The wild wind blows with all its might,
But Baby sleeps;
My Baby sleeps, and he does not hear
The noise of the storm in the pine trees near.

The snow is drifting high to-night,
But Baby sleeps;
The bitter world is cold and white,
But Baby sleeps;
My Baby sleeps, so fast, so fast,
That he does not heed the wintry blast.

The cold snows drift, and the wild winds rave,
But Baby sleeps;
And a white cross stands by his little grave,
While Baby sleeps;
And the storm is loud in the rocking pine,
But its moan is not so deep as mine.
George A. Mackenzie

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Poems On / About SLEEP