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Poems On / About SLEEP  11/29/2015 3:14:50 PM
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My Fauji Called

“I hate you”, I do..She has been telling herself from last two days, he hasn’t called. what does he think of himself …think now he is a Capt., he would treat her like one of his javan.Her stupid curly hairs where troubling her, so with the back of her hand she kept pushing them back and her nose was red, and on the face was tears of waiting and of being in love. And she didn’t know when she got so tired of crying that she slept, still the tears lay placed on her eyelashes.

Linkin park music surrounded everywhere and a sweet smiling girl opened her eyes, she looked like a Barbie with pink cheeks and beautiful big eyes, solemnly she looked around, cloths were thrown carelessly around the room everywhere, and on a crimson table stood a picture frame of a man in olive green uniform, , suddenly she realized that her mobile has been throwing a fit from last 1 hour and she wondered who would be calling at 4 in the morning, “hi baby”, happiness and fear started making her heart beat at enormous speed, felt it would come out, “oh Nishant, what happened? , everything is fine, I tried your number sweet for continuous three hours, look even my finger are hurting” and in Nishank ears the sound of priya’s giggling spread the sweetness and somehow it felt like home listening to her, and he wished if he could be there sitting with her and listening to all her unharmed complaints, he hasn’t slept whole night, has spend his whole night firing orders and sitting in 2 kilo jacket and 3 kilo heavy boots with his rifle hugging his wet body, he was cold and hungry, sitting in darkness not daring to switch on lights as he was on the target of enemy lines, his life was being protected by other twelve javans, who were being protected by him, time was valuable thing here, and he knew in his profession they were no room for mistakes, he was frightened though, when he was a little boy, his mom used to switch on lights, so that he can sleep, cause darkness has always scared him….but now he was a man and well 3 years of rigorous training has made him stubborn to hide the fact that he is still afraid of darkness, he wanted somebody to come and open these fucking lights “sweetheart are u there”, he realized he has been in pin dropp silence from last two minutes, “yes I am, sup I was just missing you, what have you been up to darling”. she new something was wrong, something was in his mind and she knew he needed her, “I have been thinking about you and wondering when you will be home, see its not fun to sleep alone and not hear your snoring, what are u doing? .The smile came on his face with all the memories which was so real still, how he used to sleep in her arms and how she never dared to move, in a fear to wake him up. “nothing baby, it has been a busy day and wanted to hear your voice, its dark here and I didn’t knew what to do, anyways why I have your letters reduced to 2 from 4 in two weeks? ”, she love this guy, how can he be so keenly interested in her silliest letters which are full of stupid jokes and female gossips, “I am sorry honey I am going to send u in regular intervals now, and then she carried on telling him how she other day have arranged his wardrobe, and she went on babbling ……

He was high in spirits now, had been laughing all along, she was a dope, she never tried saying intelligent stuff and he didn’t realize that it was 5.30 now, morning came and sort out darkness, didn’t knew how with her time fly away, before he was ready to tell her he had to go, she spoke “today will be a lovely day, I love mornings, hope you are no more afraid of the darkness sweetie, you can go now and sleep, you have been up from last night, I love you”

Leaving him so shocked and loved that it was torturous yet soothing to know that she cared and that she was there to sooth him with his most toxic yet secretive feelings.

“When you love somebody you love their demons too..no matter how bad or childish they are “..

Here the word Fauji is termed used for Indian army officer
supriya saxena

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We Sleep Like Hours Unslept In The Eyes

we sleep like hours unslept in the eye
we wakefully take them to the first of dawn
'let something break out' you say
and I am silent my eyes are silent
my lips are pregnant with sleep

we sleep like leaves forgotten by the tree
we rootlessly take them to a garden heart
'let something plant us' you say
and I am sad my eyes are sad
my lips are yearning for sleep

we sleep like lakes moon shattered rays
we facelessly list them unto the names
'let there be something' you say
and I am crying my eyes are crying
my lips can deliver no sleep
Miroslava Odalovic

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A child goes to sleep,
When his mom sings lullabies.
Smiles in sleep, cries in sleep,
Wakes up when no more in need,
Of sleep.

A young man is deeply engrossed,
When his fiancee brushes her fingers
Through his hairs and hum a love song.
His eyelids droop as he feels drowsy,
Yet cannot sleep, just to keep company.

An old man dozes off to sleep,
When the barber in the salon
Uses his trimmer and the scissors
On his grey wispy hair,
Though there is no love song to hear.
Khairul Ahsan

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Maybe It Was Sleep Apnea

Zenobia Jackson told Officer Murphy that her husband, Rufus, was 73 years old and 'a wonderful man when he was awake' but for the past year 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 so much 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 in a fight at work or back in high school many years ago. 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.

But last night, she said, he was dreaming again and 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 she looks the way she does, she told Officer Murphy.

Long ago, she had stopped trying to wake him when he was thrashing about. It was because of the pistol under his pillow. He had reached for it one time 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 suffered 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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