An Ode to Insomnia

An Ode to Insomnia

A Poem by Reddog19

Inspired by Anton Chekhov and Pablo Neruda. The title is meant to seem sarcastic.


An Ode to Insomnia

The darkness

Calls my eyes

To sleep,

Yet my mind

Does not heed.

It stays


Smiling at the

Silent shadows,


Like TV static

On the corners 

Of the circle 

That is my room.

My mind smiles

Its twisted grin,

And shakes its head

Once more,

Maniacally cackling

As the hours,



Of lost sleep



The mind

Of an insomniac

Is not a kind one,

Though it does have

Its place.

Its place among

Those who write

Epic works,

Those who are

Great thinkers,

Those who wish

They could dream

Of their own gooseberries.

Insomnia creates 

Wonderful works

Of fiction.

Like an unrelenting

River, its victim

Thinks of the world,

Their perception

Coming out like 

Frozen ice in summer.

Like a rush

Of snails,

Their minds imagine

Worlds where they too

Can sleep,


Through the night.

Because even the thinker

Needs to dream.


The sun is shining

Upon their face.

A new day has begun.

A new dawn brings

With it new possibilities.

A new time 

Where lives flourish,

Mingling with the souls

Of each other.

Today is different.

The sun chases 

The shadows away,

Leaving an ocean

Of golden sweetness

To devour the

Unformed darkness.

It spreads warmth

Upon the corners

Of the circle.

The mind awakens,

And sees the spell 

It was under.

Even the tricked must admit

That the paper lying next

To it is well-written.

There it will stay,

Until the next time

That it will be filled

With the dreams 

of an insomniac.

© 2014 Reddog19

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Unique and interesting poem. Nice job on this one.

Posted 6 Years Ago

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1 Review
Added on April 14, 2014
Last Updated on April 14, 2014