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Poems On / About SLEEP  8/31/2015 10:19:16 AM
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  237.     

Sleep Apnea Or Agent Orange: Let’s Hear It For Monsanto

Zenobia Jackson told Officer Murphy that her husband, Rufus, was 'a wonderful man when he was awake' but for years he had been jerking 'something terrible' during his sleep and had kept waking her up. He'd swing his arms, she said, like those martial arts men he liked to watch on television. When the bouts were over, he'd give her a big kiss on the forehead and go to bed.

'Oh, he was just a doll, ' she said, 'when he was awake.'

In the last month, however, Rufus had fallen out of bed three times 'fighting' in his dreams. In the morning he'd tell her he'd been dreaming that he was back in Vietnam. Sometimes he dreamt he was shooting at burglars breaking into their house in the old neighborhood. That's why they had to move to a different neighborhood and why he bought a gun, a little pistol he kept under his pillow just in case he heard someone in the house. You can't be too careful these days, he told her. He even taught her how to shoot the gun one night when no one else was on the tennis courts in Sherman Park. He said she was real good. Not many women, he said, can aim straight. They could have used her, he said, in Vietnam.

But last night, she said, when Rufus was dreaming again, he swung his arms at least ten times, like he was chopping sugar cane back in Louisiana before they moved North. He caught her with an elbow to the eye and then another to the nose just as she was ducking. “That's why I look the way I do, ” she told Officer Murphy.

Long ago, she had stopped trying to wake Rufus when he was thrashing about. It was because of the pistol under his pillow. He had reached for it one night right after she had shaken him. She had screamed and that woke him up and he wasn't too happy about it. He said he couldn't get back to sleep the rest of the night. And he wasn't lying because she was awake all night, too, listening to him grumble and curse.

Just a week ago, she had taken him to a sleep clinic where he had stayed overnight. The doctor said he might be suffering from sleep apnea but she had never heard of anyone with sleep apnea thrashing and kicking about like her Rufus. She had a lady friend in the choir at church whose husband had sleep apnea but all he did was 'snore too loud, ' her friend said, no thrashing about.

'So that's how it happened, ' Zenobia told Officer Murphy, who was busy taking notes. Rufus had reached under the pillow for the pistol and she had to stop him.

'Two in the head, ' she said, 'and he be dead.'
 
Donal Mahoney

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  238.     

Devoid Of Sleep.

Each and every graveyard
Seems to be mankind's heart.
The silent breeze now leads them to sleep;
They didn't have a blink of sleep when they were alive!
Those monsters snatched away their Darling Sleep!

Their near and dear ones are still in fear, spending sleepless nights;
They also don't have sleep for years and years;
The fire in their hearts has been existing for years & years.

Now it's time for their eternal sleep;
Yet still they don't have sleep in their churchyard;
Are they watching the fires,
Still burning in their village?
Or in their houses? Or in streets?
 
Sudipta Bhattacharyya

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  239.     

Sleep

At night I never sleep at all.
When sleep I never dream.
I know because I wake appalled,
And can’t recall a thing.

I miss the sunray’s blatant threat.
I now hate being nocturnal.
I try to sleep, well more or less.
My life’s quite controversial.

I envy babies and the old.
Who sleep all how the please.
And children whose sleep is controlled,
By moms, some nice, more mean.

lf I was GOD, all should beware.
I’d blindly turn my cheek.
For without passion, love, or care.
All I would do is sleep.
 
Malik Seven Navarre

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  240.     

Sleep

Sleep, sleep, O'sleep
There is nothing to fear now
No more fears
No more bills
No more 4: AM wakeup time
For work, no more traffics
No more sleeping with an eye open'
No more fears of CANCER and HIV/AIDS

Sleep, sleep, O'sleep
No more heart sores

Sleep
I know you are still here
With us...
 
Emeyazia Iwe Chukwudi

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Poems On / About SLEEP