Today's poem is by Blanca Castellón, translated by J. P. Dancing Bear

The Voice of The Insomniac

is a fragment of hell that sometimes occurs during nights of insomnia. In
the morning you'll rise and all will be right. You won't worry about famine
in the north nor murders in the south, even less for leaks needing repair
at home, nor the felon who now bothers you. Open your eyes and you will
be well or at least you will think you are well. Very well. Although there
are dark announcements in the scriptures being fulfilled. Although the
Trial on the Blindness has ceased to be a warning. A tide covers our white
eyes. Almost nobody can see already. Nobody wants to. Everyone wants
to possess night thoughts appearing like scared birds that bang against the
neurons. This country, this shitty country, is rotting. We need to escape
while we can. Where, where to go with this internal war. Where to carry
the garbage housed in the walls of pleasure. Sleep, a voice says, sleep so
only in a dream you're equal to all mortals. Everyone goes to the same
place when they sleep. Remove your body. Leave it there. Start your day-
dreams. Travel for now. Return to yourself and to me. Let's go back
against the emptiness.

Copyright © 2008 Blanca Castellón, J. P. Dancing Bear All rights reserved
from The Bitter Oleander
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

Support Verse Daily
Sponsor Verse Daily!

Home    Archives   Web Monthly Features    About Verse Daily   FAQs  Submit to Verse Daily   Publications Noted & Received  

Copyright © 2002-2008 Verse Daily All Rights Reserved