…On Poetry and Fiction
THE WALTZ OF GHOULS (Insomnia)
written by: Phyllis P. Colucci
@FictionTarot
“Insomnia” is a presence that slips into bed with you without your permission. It gets under the covers, steals your pillow, rests its nasty head upon your shoulder, and lays itself down beside you – and there is not one darn thing you can do about it! You twist and turn, sit up at the edge of the bed, pace the room, and gaze out your window – yet it’s still there following you and standing next to you every step of the way. “Insomnia” stalks you, terrorizes you, and doesn’t give up.
One night I decided to embrace “Insomnia”. I couldn’t see it, but I knew it was there. I introduced myself with tired eyes and a half-smile, then moved closer to the far right of my bed and just let “Insomnia” sleep to the left. I felt its heartbeat, sensed its touch, and smelled its wicked scent. How ironic, I thought. “Insomnia” gets to sleep in my bed, while it keeps me up all night. So I decided to talk to it. I told it stories about my day, and tried to add some humor to my words. I thought the conversation would help put “Insomnia” to sleep and, perhaps, allow me to fall asleep as well. It didn’t work, however.
I knew “Insomnia” was listening, but it didn’t respond. It didn’t even laugh at my jokes. I came to the realization that “Insomnia” was far from friendly, which is something I knew all along; so why waste time trying to befriend it. It’s just a lonely, malicious foe, looking for a place to hang out. So I let it stay in my bed, while I got up and walked over to my laptop and wrote a poem all about “Insomnia”. I named the poem “The Waltz of Ghouls”, since it’s actually a bizarre dance that occurs in everyone’s bedroom, at the darkest hour, forcing you to stay awake.
Once the poem was completed, “Insomnia” magically disappeared from my bed, and I got under the covers and fell fast asleep. I present to you, my friends, “The Waltz of Ghouls”:
THE WALTZ OF GHOULS
Have you known the torment from the darkest hours of the night?
Where wicked, whirling skeletons dance ‘til morning light?
Their shadows breathe quite heavily
as they tip-toe ‘cross your bed
ascending to the ceiling…drifting overhead
Their melancholy hissing echoes in your ears
Tapping at your heart, rousing all your fears
Blanketing your weary soul with rash, undaunted fury
raping all your virtues
playing judge and jury
The Waltz of Ghouls has just begun at this haunting hour
For there is no refuge – nocturnal demons are in power!
You may close your eyes to their performance and force the curtain down
yet your soul will dwell amongst them
they will offer you the Crown
A Queen they seek to rule their haven as they gather where they may
But No! This shall not happen while you turn and look away
…the dark is gone! The light has come!
…now they are lost in “day”
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
We have all come in contact with “Insomnia”. This short piece is my interpretation of “Insomnia”, and how the reality of it prompted me to create a short work of fiction with an accompanying poem.
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