Life in Poetry

Turmoil

 

My sleep pattern has never been great and has deteriorated since 2006. Most nights I have a period of wakefulness but have learned to be calm about it. Lying waiting for sleep to come back, reading, getting up for a drink or a pee are all part of the tactics to avoid upheaval. I have noticed that if I can sleep between six am and ten am I seem to get sufficient REM sleep to keep me going. Not at all a scientific conclusion but it works for me. Then of course, sometimes that all goes out the window. One such time elicited the piece below, as I frantically attempted to recapture some equilibrium. I was reading Eiléan Ní Chuilleanáin at the time.

So read, enjoy, pass it on, send me comments through the link below.


Turmoil of the Night

            After Eiléan Ní Chuilleanáin

 

Sheep stared at me when I woke

those same I counted at start of night

I tossed endlessly unhinging

sheet from mattress

bunching under back bum thighs

adding to discomfort - sleep failure

 

On replay no observable cause explains

whirling brain itched skin jumping legs

blinking eyelids increased body heat

working together with canny success

to maintain frantic wakefulness - 

Counted sheep were impassive unimpressed

 

Peter Clarke

29th Dec 2022

They'll Cut Us Down Again, 2020

Christina Quarles Centre Pompidou

Echoes of the Old on the New Battlefields

 

Warrior chiefs of the GAA were early on the field to prepare:

Posts and cones positioned to mark territories

 

Very young novices came later by parents’ chariots

clad and shod for the ensuing battles

 

Firstly, paced for speed, resilience and flexibility,

then marked off into opposing teams

 

Each warrior chief led a young squad of hopefuls

in further exercises to bring them to fit levels

 

There followed a huddle, an exhortation rant,

responded with clamour of intent and enthusiasm

 

Skirmishes began, speed across the field, hunt for the ball,

to be delivered as the goal, or to be prevented at all costs

 

Warrior chiefs egged on, instructed, altered the field of play

the young ’uns complied with fighting spirit

 

For every fall and hurt spells were cast on the side line

till fitness returned and they were entered back into play

 

Scores mounted, roars enhanced, casualties grew,

novices flagged and regrouped across the fields

 

Between bouts came the talks of encouragement

Stay back, pass, pass, pass, keep the pace.

 

Old hands passing skill onto new palms with dedication,

a gift of generous wisdom gladly given

 

Peter Clarke

20th April 2024