Blocked

Awake again.
Body refusing to rest –
twitchy, exhausted but uncomfortable.
Mind joins the party – why not?
Words and ideas start tumbling,
like those balls in the big bingo drum -
turn, turn… let’s see what pops out?

Worthless phrases, no hint of beauty or meaning.
Occasional gems taunting, mocking me,
but never enough to hang a poem on.
Incoherent babble, wasting my time.
I’m out of bed for this??

A hazy sense of something hovers,
Annoying like a fly around my head
refusing to land where I can smack it.
Infinite tiny chirping birds,
unable to coalesce into an organized flock.

My pen is failing me.
Self-medication is understandable -
something has to mute this irritating mosquito-buzz in my head.
Please, I just want to sleep.