all the dark things

October 23, 2019

The witching hour, somebody had once whispered to her, was a special moment in the middle of the night when every child and every grown-up was in a deep deep sleep, and all the dark things came out from hiding and had the world all to themselves.

Roald Dahl

the Fairy of Dreams

September 30, 2019

The wall is silence, the grass is sleep,
Tall trees of peace their vigil keep,
And the Fairy of Dreams with moth-wings furled
Plays soft on her flute to the drowsy world.

Ida Rentoul Outhwaite

Letters to Strangers

September 12, 2019

This is my letter to the world
That never wrote to me.

— Emily Dickinson

We write our letters to strangers, to you who will turn
the corner of the page to stumble upon a garden of poem
or this epistolary plain, write letters rooted in nuances
of the commonplace of our every day living where you
may plant yourself and perhaps lift the eyes, furrow
the brow, or tum lips upward into a sheepish smile,
maybe scratch the head or nod or not, bare feet propped
up on a fat pillow on a hard table top, to you thinking
perhaps about a lost child or safe return home, some
forgotten kiss or one you wish you had given freely,
that job you took on or wished you never had, that song
whose lyrics fleet in and out of a quiet afternoon or
disturb sleep, even those large lettered signs you lifted in
protest or others you did not heed and thought you would
or should, all while sipping a sweetened tea or rounding
a whiskey glass rim with lemon peel, fingers pressed
to temple, mind hovering or darting off from these letters
to strangers, clearing a way from the maze of the page,
letters trying speak to you, calling to you to stay a little
longer, to come here, come in a little closer, force your
ear to the earth of words straining to burst into bloom
just for you.

Andrena Zawinski

Pink Velour Nightdress

March 10, 2019

The one who is not The One appears in your sleep.
Fling away longings, those squirmy deep-sea creatures.
Does the cat follow you because you feed her or is she a haint?
By day you walk cool aisles buying anemones and fruit.
To work under the spell is not the same as working under the dream.

Judith Taylor


December 18, 2018

Variations on the word sleep

November 29, 2018

I would like to watch you sleeping,
Which may not happen.
I would like to watch you,
Sleeping. I would like to sleep
With you, to enter
Your sleep as its smooth dark wave
Slides over my head

And walk with you through that lucent
Wavering forest of bluegreen leaves,
With its watery sun and three moons,
Towards the cave where you must descend,
Towards your worst fear.

I would like to give you the silver
Branch, the small white flower, the one
Word that will protect you
From the grief at the center
Of your dream, from the grief
At the center. I would like to follow
You up the long stairway
Again and become
The boat that would row you back
Carefully, a flame
In two cupped hands,
To where your body lies
Beside me as you enter
It as easily as breathing in.

I would like to be the air
That inhabits you for a moment
Only. I would like to be that unnoticed
And that necessary.

Margaret Atwood

Halloween tomorrow

October 30, 2018

Sleep & Sex

September 1, 2018

Sleep was like sex. The less you had, the more you craved it.

Robert Dugoni
My Sister’s Grave

seduce me

June 30, 2018

Sleep tries to seduce me by promising a more reasonable tomorrow.

Elizabeth Smart
By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept


February 13, 2018

What if I slept a little more and forgot about all this nonsense?

Franz Kafka