Wake Up, with Poetry

sleeping

Wake Up, with Poetry. Sleeping Woman. (Photo credit: riebschlager)

The Girl Who

Wake up me,
Me, the girl who people call innocent
Innocent to love but not to books
Books that teach me about geometric angles, use of commas,
But not of comas.

Wake up, I tell myself,
But I am the last to hear the voice
Which calls out to everyone around me
Without my realization.

The calls keep ringing,
Saying stop
Stop taking his words like cough syrup,
The drops are not sweet but do stick
Stick to my thoughts and cloud them like a storm,
Stormy clouds that reach my mind as
My arms extend to guide him
When he is really the one guiding me.

Me, I do not wake up
Until my every move is in the spotlight
With total darkness around me
And then I long for sleep, a long sleep,
And flowered cushions to fall on.

Β©2013 Christy Birmingham

Audioslave >> Like A Stone

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54 thoughts on “Wake Up, with Poetry

  1. Julie Catherine

    Wow, awesome poem with wisdom and insight, my friend – and one that, like others have commented, I can also relate to. Well said, I love that last couple of lines especially! πŸ™‚ xoxox

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  2. rlloydmyers

    Now that is a really cool poem, Ms. Birmingham…another home run from my very favorite poet. I just tweeted it to 60K+ followers…

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  3. Seyi sandra

    Lovely poem Wordsmith! It’s somehow hard to wake up and do certain things in life and I identified with this poem, enjoy the rest of your weekend. Thanks for sharing!
    Blessings! πŸ™‚

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  4. pictimilitude

    Yes…waking up…hearing the voice, hearing the true self…hearing a loved one. It’s a great poem because just when you have one image, you think of another that fits equally well. Awesome, awesome piece. πŸ™‚

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      1. aquileana

        I love your poem, Christy … Congratulations!!!

        Obviously I agree with you… I have shared your same feeling of being full with my own kingdom…

        In this case, your books, your most valuable things , yopur particular way of thinking several times might be your chosen way of “sleeping”…

        But by this I mean these are the things that help you to fall apart from the nonsense sense of living and these things could set you free …

        Sleeping is therefore dreaming, creating your own realms and sometimes feeling that you donΒ΄t need anything or anyone else… Because you are living in the deepest sense of Life.

        To Wake up could be what the average people might order us to do… But this is because the most part of people walks in the same direction… and they canΒ΄t understand your attitudes at all… They just think you are missing the “daily way of living”

        The great dreamer , whose poems I know you love , and I am talking about to Roberst Frost would like to say:

        “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
        I took the one less traveled by,
        And that has made all the difference”.

        (Robert Frost. The Road Not Taken).

        I think youΒ΄are probably making a huge difference while sleeping /dreaming; Christy despite what others may say or believe…

        Please keep on going with the poetry… I love your writing;

        Amalia (G+) /// Aquileana (wordpressΒ΄s nickname)

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        1. Christy Birmingham Post author

          Amalia,
          Thank-you! I love your reflections on life. I wrote you a response on your own site, where I see your comment as well. Please look there for my sincere thanks to for your words and your friendship.

          Christy

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  5. Ryan Brooks

    Christy, you truly are a fantastic poet, quite worthy of fashioning a word-pastry in their form. Love the metaphors here, esp. the cough drops leading into the storm… brilliant. Also, great song clip at the end. Love me some Audioslave. Loving your blog, my dear. πŸ˜‰

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  6. Tessa

    Christy, just a beautiful moving poem. Full of emotion, I can feel you rising and awakening on so many levels. Your journey of peace and strength will ultimately bring your being to a relaxing oasis. I so appreciate all you share of your self in your poetry. LOL.

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  7. Red

    It seems we never do wake up from the coma we use to cushion each day until we are far to weary to fight any longer. Excellent wordplay, and the image of guiding is poignant. Whose idea is it really when you are convinced you are leading when the other is convince they convinced you it was your idea.
    xxx

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