Poem: Alarm Clock

Do you own an alarm clock? Have you ever felt the mundane aspects of waking up in the morning? Have you ever snoozed your alarm about a million times, only to hear it keep on taunting you to get up and start the day? Nowadays, most people use their cell phones to set alarms on their phones, but many people can still recount that annoying ringing noise from an actual alarm clock. Either way, we have all experienced the wake up sounds; the button we snooze that we just want to stop, the feeling of wanting to just curl back up into bed and not deal with the outside world around us. We all go through this--the mundane aspects of getting up and starting the day. The tired feeling as we put on the coffee and begin going over in our heads everything that needs to get done during our day. Sometimes, it seems completely un-achievable. Sometimes it almost feels robotic. The small, simple things that we do every morning when we wake up; that is what this poem is about. I wrote this poem a long time ago, and I will say, it is rusty at best, but maybe there is something deeper inside this little poem that I wrote that I'm not seeing so clearly now. That the tick of an alarm clock, much like the tick and beat of our hearts, opens us up to a new day, gives us life, purpose, meaning. The real message here is that all of those little things that we think of as so meaningless, are actually the things that lead us to where we are meant to be. How we start the day has so much to say about what our day will be like, whether we like it or not. Sometimes, I think I'm crazy. Why on earth would I write something so simple as snoozing an alarm clock? Well, I don't know, I couldn't really tell you that. What I can tell you is that this little poem is something that I wrote, and even if it's complete trash, it is here, and I am sharing it with the world!

It's the crust beneath your eyes

That purple glow under the lids

Your eyelids stuck together like glue

And that glossed over view

Of the world.

It's that sour, pungent taste in your mouth

From last night's indulgences

And the dry cottony aftertaste

On your tongue.

It's that banging drone

Entering your dreams

Snapping you into reality's wake.

It's your hand reaching to stop it

Clumsily feeling the side

Of the nightstand.

It's the ceiling fan humming

Spinning around and around

A wake up call cooler than others.

It's two black hands

And one red one

Moving at alternate rates

Ticking like the beat of your heart.

It's the itchy head,

Your joints popping as your stretch out

And the achy feeling in your legs.

It's that little grumble when you stand up

The feeling of weightlessness as you make your way

Down the hall

The feeling like you are still sleeping,

Dreaming this all up,

But in reality, you are here,

And this is real

It's that sudden urge as you hear the alarm again

And you know you have to

Go to the bathroom,

Take a shower, use the toilet

Open the dresser,

Step into your pants,

Spread the toast

Feed the cat

Drink your coffee

Read the paper

Pack your bag

Grab the keys

Look out the window

Look out the door

Pace the hallway

Turn out the lights.

You linger in the door frame

You wonder why you must go

Why, oh why, did you have to set the alarm

Why do we have to do this to ourselves every single day

You smirk, you chuckle, and out the door you go.

A stroll into the crisp air

Like a robot, almost unaware

That all these little nothings

Mean something big is about to occur.