be awake

[breathtest]

be awake

sudden sounds in the kitchen
punctuate the morning, and the awakening
is swift and terrifying.

nothing is more confusing
than soft pillowed eyelids
opening to white walls, or those
random thoughts, and then memories.

the early moments are like madness,
foggy and brutal,

disguised
in perennial
habit

until the fog lifts,
and your accommodation
in the earth is cemented
like brickwork.

[tailor STATELY]

I like your poem a lot.

Your use of language is rich and enjoyable; and the poem flows well.

I'll admit I'm still bending my mind around what's going on, like: what's making the sounds in the kitchen (poltergeist?). To my mind a light haunting poesy.

Thank you for sharing.

[PrinceMyshkin]

One of the things I like about this poem is the way it seems to be vacillating as to the form it will take, going from medium-length lines to shorter ones, from what is more definitely poetic diction, to what flirts with prose - as if the poem were mimicking the content.

[Bar22do]

be awake

sudden sounds in the kitchen
punctuate the morning, and the awakening
is swift and terrifying.

nothing is more confusing
than soft pillowed eyelids
opening to white walls, or those
random thoughts, and then memories.

the early moments are like madness,
foggy and brutal,

disguised
in perennial
habit

until the fog lifts,
and your accommodation
in the earth is cemented
like brickwork.

What a hard job to wake up... And by the time it is done, a new evening eats up already the cemented accommodation.... engulfs the brick... only to throw it brutally out, at the end of the tunnel, unprotected, and prey to another exacting day... Your poem tells finely about it. Thanks for sharing it. I like your poems.

[blank|verse]

I like this, but can't make up my mind whether it goes too far with the 'terrifying sounds' in the kitchen; especially because they're not resolved at any point in the poem, I'm reading the rest thinking - what about the kitchen??

But I can see that it could be nothing, and that's how you can be awoken, in a 'confused' state as you say.

I didn't think much to the penultimate stanza, but enjoyed the last one, particularly the metaphor:

and your accommodation
in the earth is cemented
like brickwork.

[paperleaves]

Whoa. how elegantly you describe what we have all encountered--
alarm rings, mom drops a skillet in the kitchen, who am I? where is it that I am? followed by a loooooooong stretch, a yawn, a look in the mirror, and oh yeah, there I am.

[MorpheusSandman]

I quite like this as well. I've read a few poems that really capture the feeling of waking up in the morning and this is one of them, but it's definitely suffused with something deeper. It seems to become a metaphor for life in general or maybe even birth.

[breathtest]

Thank you everyone for the great comments. For some reason i wasn't sure about this piece. I don't know what it was, i just don't think it seemed consistent at the time, but i am glad you all liked it, i was kind of nervous