sleepless

Illogically Sane.

I tried to sleep but this damned heat

makes it hard to speak of the

dreamy nightmares and

sweat soaked sheets that choke and

and blind the mind, body and soul.

I watched a movie about Howl, the poem

by Allen Ginsberg tonight and learned

about his struggles and the troubles

of writing enflamatory poetry and

was reminded that the best writers,

are only famous after they are dead

no matter whats in their heads

or from what they might have fled.

Finding ways after spending endless days

letting the mind control all our ways and plays 

makes it hard to let the heart take the reigns

connected to the hands to create these plans

to travel to imagined self designed far away lands

its the only way you see, to create poetry.

I dont know where I stand in this game

but I no longer hide behind my shame

Ill probally never know how much it will grow