Almost a Poem

 Almost a Poem (c)

By Michael Casey

Well me and Tinnitus are going through a strange period, not staying awake all night till exhaustion and sleep arrive. But chunks of sleep and not being awake till they arrive. Though 3am where were you? I was having toast and Ovaltine, a snack and a hot drink seems to being sleep to me.

Sometimes Totoro our cat arrives, to be let out to plague the countryside, or just to chill with the nearby foxes, but not Gumiho, so I let the cat out and away she leaps. Setting off lights and movement sensors all over the neighbourhood. That’s how I know when she wants to come in when she’s out late drinking with the foxes. The lights light up everywhere, so me in my Tinnitus time put on a dressing gown and go downstairs to let her in. 

Last night I had a poem come to me, 1% of my output is poetry of sorts, so 20 out of 2000 pieces maybe. When I get a poem it tends to be very good, yes in my opinion, but most people almost always agree too. I really should record any stray ideas and snatches, then I’d have more material to annoy you with. But I’m no Stevie Wonder, though I do have my share of Inner Visions, he has recording equipment by his bed. Me I just want to sleep, I do have aa old phone directing a smart speaker through the night. And yes Sting has been added to the night shift, so Taylor Swift can get a rest, and be fresh in the morning to do the High Dusting in my study. As you know her lad works in the chip shop down the hill, and that’s how I kill two birds with one stone.

So there I was thinking, and with Tinnitus your brain can go into overdrive as you fight to sleep, that’s why it is so debilitating, not to mention my other weaknesses. I got a theme about Land and Peace and Faith and Geography. History is Geography, and, you Cannot beat Geography. Something for all armies to think about, as well as with Faith you can Move Mountains. If you know that then you can achieve something, with Love.

I had a few lines and said to myself, that’s good as I was half asleep and half awake and half in pain, Tinnitus is part of the Sine Curve of pain that I endure for 8 years now, first starting with Arthur my arthritis. When it hits it is deeper and longer, my pain. The night time Tinnitus seems to be worse too. But I want to talk about the Words, I had a line here and there so I promised myself I’d put it together in the morning, like flatpack furniture. Only I lost the allen key, or rather I lost the words by the time I was finally ready to arise. I still awake every 2 hours, so by the time I’d had my 8 hours, after Tinnitus time, the allen key to attach the words together had gone. Maybe I need a Gumiho I could dictate to in the night,  but that is just a fantasy in all senses of the word and my imagination .

You have to have words and dreams and Gumiho fantasies even, because without them the pain would be far to much to bear, and no I’m not joking, I wish I were. Today my small daughter tells me our study clock is famous, as it chimes through the online lessons, and her French teacher calls it charming, though this dad is no Prince. The Geography class recognise the chimes too, meanwhile Jesus he Knows Me is playing on my speaker, Music the Genesis for everything. And yes Jesus does know me, and Saint Jude’s too, for when you are awake in the night, the conversation ebbs and flows like as does the Music of My Night, Andrew where is your Webber? Music is a cobweb catching thoughts in the night, dreams, hopes, and fantasies, as well as curses and pain, bouncing and rippling everywhere.

So that’s all I have for  today, maybe the Poem will arrive, they are gifts, they arrive and my train of thought marshals them in the station. I do not control the Poetry timetable, they are free spirits like Totoro our cat. The other writing is fast and furious, maybe my subconscious is telling me to squeeze out all I have, my only gift for my two teenage daughters. Then the page will flutter and fall down like falling leaves and my tree of words will be bare, and I’ll turn to mush like fallen Autumn leaves on the wood’s floor.

So enjoy me while I’m still here, as I constantly tell my daughters, I’ve had 6 years of extra time. But if you are a Gumiho, you’ll have to wag your 9 tails to catch me, and would I be worth it? 20 years more if a Gumiho did her magic, though that’s just more Music in the Night, I really must push the piano out of my bed.