In my past life
When I dropped myself on the bed
Overworked, exhausted & sleep-deprived
After studying English poetry all night
There were snippets of rhymed lines
Waging a war of verses in my mind

Warning me

I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep
Do not go gentle into that good night
Rage, rage against the dying of the light

What a heap of shit
How did I think
Any of that matters

It doesn’t pay the bills

So, flashforward to now
When I drop myself on the bed
Still overworked, exhausted & sleep-deprived
After translating a company website all night
There’s a war of visions going on in my head

A clash of clichés making me wish for brain death
I laugh at the line The extrusion line strikes back
Though there’s nothing funny about that
It’s pathetic, really, just like me

I still don’t pay the bills

But, at least, I’m not buying this shit
Maybe I’m brain-dead already
As I wish
That would be—a happy ending
I think

IMG_20180101_192526-01.jpeg

Not going gentle into that night

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Posted by Mara Eastern

I'm a sardonic blogger, snapper, scribbler and rhymer; a virtual space invader who indulges in cheerful negativism, morbid self-deprecation and bleak humour.

8 Comments

  1. ‘a clash of clichés….’ Sheer poetry, Mara.

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    1. LOL, thank you for being too kind!

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  2. Poetry nevertheless …. free form 🙂

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    1. Very free form indeed 😀

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  3. Why would you drop yourself in a bed?

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    1. In an attempt to be original, I guess 😀

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  4. Brrr, that looks cold!

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    Reply

    1. Yes, it was back in winter and it was a cold one!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

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