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Sleep - A Thought Provoked by Liz Crow Continuing Bedding Out

Image - bedding_in_03.jpg

When I used to practice writing with a passion, strong and heavy into the night I would wake up with sentences being formed in front of my eyes rather than dream in sound or in vision. It still happens sometimes. It happened again recently. The words appeared. They took poetic form. I woke up and they were gone. I let them run away, escape me. Then that Dawn Willis started a facebook page, Bedding Out Live  a promotion of a Liz Crow performance. I began to contribute and as I did remembrance of the lost words returned. I was sleeping. I was waking. Words instead of dreams. What were they? I cannot even now remember and perhaps I never will but in searching Sleep appeared and formed as follows:
My bed takes me
these days
cold and shivery
returning me
hot and sweaty
with life

trying to type
a poem in my head
that I haven’t
as yet learned
to capture
on waking

in days
at night
a ghostlike repetition
and me (again)

What was it that you said?
What was it that you felt?
What could I do to help you?
Why do I walk away?

Memory finds
whilst sleeping
imprisoned in the snuggle safe
chain of duvet
remorse behind bars
in Pillowdown Town

Posted by Rich Downes, 10 March 2013

Last modified by Rich Downes, 10 March 2013

My Bed - A Thought Provoked by Trish Wheatley's Description of Liz Crow's Forthcoming Exhibition

I always enjoyed my bed
The time that I spent there.
Ill or not
There was a time it was central
Located near everything
The Tea Pot
The records
The player
Adornments of a life
In Bedsit land
People would come visit
Sit around the bed
The bed that I would stay in
Two friends
Left me there one night
and let me sleep
before leaving
I felt blessed by their kindness
But my bed has
a longer history than that
For many years it was just
a staging post
between falling asleep
and working
Short hours spent there then
A place for different company
More than friends
I love my bed again
now when not working
But the location is less central
Further away
from the tea pot and the records and the player
Adornments of a life
that has changed
taken on different significance
and fall
My bed
keeps me warm
keeps me safe
enables care
and caring
for my love
who loves
my bed
we share

Posted by Rich Downes, 9 October 2012

Last modified by Colin Hambrook, 10 October 2012