Anne is a writer with a passion for self-expression and publishing.
About This Poem
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.