First night breath in, breath out
Deep and slow
Now I am  Darth

First night breath in, breath out
Deep and slow
The warm water on the Kona Coast
Snorkel mask filling
Fighting panic

Whose breaths these are, oh, yes, I know
And on the laptop they will show
With lines and graphs so all can cheer
Each breath of mine I huff and blow

My little dog must think it queer
To sleep with a machine so near
Sighing all night without a break
Every evening throughout the year

She gives her collar bell a shake
To ask if there is some mistake
The only other sound’s the beep
Of mechanical air intake

Breathing is lovely, counting sheep
And I have life to love and keep
And hours and hours of healing sleep
And hours and hours of healing sleep








All honor to Robert Frost, to the scientists and medicos who invented CPAP and BIPAP machines, to the makers of those little life savers, and to all medical workers.

In the cartoons and in family lore snoring is amusing; in reality snoring indicates a lack of oxygen to the brain and the body’s struggle to make it good.  Snoring = oxygen deprivation, which leads to stroke and / or mental issues, and a too-soon death.

A sleep study involves no needles or indignities, only a night’s sleep with some flat little electrodes taped to one’s chest and extremities. Early in the morning the nice technician will bring you a cup of fresh coffee.  Now that’s my kind of medical care!

The dog firmly placed his chin upon the old
man's knee, stirring him from sleep in his chair.
The only light in the room coming from the
television screen. The dog's gentle message
being, "Time we go to bed" dear friend.
A ritual event occurring more often now
and most likely tomorrow night again.

As the man slowly stood the dog pranced towards
the door, to go outside and do his required business.
The man also to the bathroom did retire, brushing of
teeth and to attend to his own urgent business.

Six years of twenty four seven companionship had
bonded them forever, each knowing the other as
only best friends or family can, both fully habituated
to the other's needs and routines.

The dog sat upon his own bed, close by to the man's
bed,  patiently waiting as he always did. The man leaned
down and took the dog's face and head into his hands,
forehead to forehead they paused while silent endearing
messages were, like every night, conveyed and mutually
affectionately received. Love as real as any.

The man climbed aboard his own bed, donning his CPAP
mask like a pilot before take off and arranged himself
in his fully-automatic-adjustable bed, then clapped his
hands twice to extinguish the lamp on the bedside table.

"Good night buddy, we'll have some more fun in the
morning." the man murmured, closing his eyes to sleep.

Another day ended as most now do, as will, all their
remaining shared tomorrow's.

Soft pillow cases
Engulf my skull
like a magical
marshmallowy surprise
taking away
my sub-concious
every second
e
v
  e
   r
    y
s
e
  c
   o
     n      
                d

I'm still awake!
daydreaming of daydreams
wandering thoughts
inside-out
Jibbing jabber
Clattering matter
faster faster faster!!

f
i
  n
    d
     i
  n
g

zzzzzzzzzzz.........

I have trouble sleeping
my CPAP machine starting squeaking
like a mouse is in my bed
So I quickly yanked the mask off my head
The cat knocked something over
the contents spilling the contents on the floor
Too late to vacuum up the carpeted floor
Midterm week for school tests and
big paper to write
I need more sleep to think more clearly
The highlight of my day was reading
and replying to messages that you
my dear Hello Poetry friends have written
I bid you adieu for now and wish you
sweet dreams and hope for them too

The dog firmly placed his chin upon the old
man's knee, stirring him from sleep in his chair.
The only light in the room coming from the
television screen. The dog's gentle message
being, "Time we go to bed" dear friend.
A ritual event occurring more often now
and most likely tomorrow night again.

As the man slowly stood the dog pranced towards
the door, to go outside and do his required business.
The man also to the bathroom did retire, brushing of
teeth and to attend to his own urgent business.

Six years of twenty-four seven companionship had
bonded them forever, each knowing the other as
only best friends or family can, both fully habituated
to the other's needs and routines.

In the bedroom the dog sat upon his own bed, close by
to the man's bed, patiently waiting as he always did.
The man leaned down and took the dog's face and
head into his hands, forehead to forehead they paused
while silent endearing messages were, like every night,
conveyed and mutually affectionately received. Loving
friendship as real as any can be.

The man climbed aboard his own bed, donning his CPAP
mask like a pilot before takeoff and arranged himself
in his fully-automatic-adjustable bed, then clapped his
hands twice to extinguish the lamp on the bedside table.

"Good night, buddy, we'll have some more fun in the
morning." the man murmured, closing his eyes to sleep.
While his friend also laid down, curled into a ball and
released a contented sigh, as they both did every night.

Another day ended as most now do, as will, all their
remaining shared tomorrows.

here in the little wee hours
on the night so cold
my toes ache
i sit pondering
life and such
by the light
of fire and tablet

wrapped in blanket
threaded with memories
i think nonsense and ingenuity
and watch cinders fly

on the hearth the dog and cat slumber
wrapped around each other pretzel-like
defying with casual snores,
both physics and laws of natural enmity.
there is an ease to their bromance
that both confounds and humours me

behind me spreading on the couch
like slow(very slow) moving lava is
the surf god, encased in flannel and ugg
he gargles breathe like an old Harley
soon I will escort him to bed and leave
him to the embrace of his new lover
Madame Cpap...and they can share
a night of slumber in a wind tunnel
then in the morning , he is mine once more

the golden boy sleeps elsewhere tonight
having come into the season of sleepovers
he resides in a tent,  in a bedroom
half a suburb away ,oblivious to
the sound of stretching apron strings
he too shall return to me tomorrow
older and with new cultural references
to share with his increasingly
dim witted parents

for now, in the wee hours
i stare at the cinders
and see the old man as younger
and the boy as babe
as my toes ache
and my eyes leak
just a tad....

When I was coming up
momma and daddy both said
"Finish your plate, son.  Eat the rest!"
More often than not there'd be something
I didn't like, or didn't like enough
and momma or daddy one would say
"Finish your plate.  Eat the rest!"

I'd eat a little more, ask to be excused,
momma or daddy would see my remnants
"Eat the rest, child!  Eat the rest!"
I'd eat a bit more. "May I be excused?"
"Listen to me, son, you best eat the rest!"
So I'd sit there, pitiful like, and eat the rest.

Reflecting on this, I am keenly aware
proponents on both sides argue 'beware'
Forcing a child to always finish their plate
can lead to obesity's worrisome fate
But letting them stop whenever they want
selfishly teaches life's lessons to flaunt

It doesn't matter which side you're on
I'll agree with you so let's move on
There's a deeper darker side to this
that I need to mention lest I be remiss
After year's of being told to eat the rest
is it possible I actually consumed "my rest"?

The rest I seek when I try to take a nap
The rest I pursue when I wear my CPAP
The rest that eludes me at work or at play
The question my wife asks me every day:

"Honey, were you able to get any rest?"

No, dear.  When I was a kid, I was forced to
finish my plate and eat the rest, so there's
none to be found.  I done ate it all.




© 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.

“…or if we must be wakeful, cheerful…”
-from St. Thomas More’s evening prayer in A Man for all Seasons

Soft, healing sleep now rolls away, away
One’s senses flicker unreliably
The electronic weather panel glows
The CPAP whispers a leaking-air hissssssss

Awake. And why? The day was cruel enough
And now the night reproaches with things done
And things not done, all mixed in raw reproach
Life-choices laughing, mocking, taunting

Perhaps sleepless Macbeth can tell us why
With mirth displaced, all through these haunted hours

Cosmic concert at Jupiter moon


Hi everyone and welcome to Jupiter moon and my name is bimmy jarnes and today I will sing about your wishes and dreams you have and the first song is amazing grapes hoping I can get a girl with my wild imagination

Amazing grapes
How sweet the juice
How nice to grab all the wine
You see I started off being a
Small little grape white or red
And the fact that the alcohol
Might make you better off dead
It still is a sweet little taste
You see Jesus adds the flavour of grapes
To turn water into wine
And Australians love to talk to each other
Breaking bread and drinking wine
Then you go to wine bar
And you drink the place till it’s dry
I could say that wine makes me feel good
But overall each grape contains the sugar
You need to squeeze if all out
Amazing grapes how sweet the juice
It tastes ever so nice
It once was a grape
Now it is wine
It can also be a juice for communion
And it mates the wafers so nice
Then you win a grand final match
And squirt it over at the mob
Then you say to each other
Mate old mate
This is one hell of a job

Thank you for listening to that song and now my next song is standing on the inside

Standing on the inside looking out
Standing on the inside looking out
Standing on the inside looking out
Of the psych ward trying to get better
I was working at the merry go round
Telling all the children to have a nice day
With a vision of days I was on this place
Doing laps of the HDU like it was a race
I was doing laps of the merry go round
Hoping I can get fit from walk I do
Yeah yeah yeah
Standing on the inside looking out
Standing on the inside looking out
Standing on the inside looking out
Of the psych ward trying to get better
You see I dream about partying in the sky
But I hear my voice saying WHY WHY WHY
I run to the nurses saying the word inmates are trying to ****
They turn their backs saying what a dill
You see if we let you out
You won’t take your meds
And we will get a call from
Your mum and dad
And I drink a beer and say
Standing on the inside looking out
Standing on the inside looking out
Standing on the inside looking out
Of the psych ward trying to get better
Trying trying trying to flaming get better
Don’t go to the psych ward mate

Thank you very much and now this next song is called Sunday morning

Sunday morning
It is time to get up ready for church
Sunday morning
But you had a big night and you are ready to spew
Sunday morning
You celebrated the swans winning the match
Sunday morning
But I was sitting in the bar and you tried to hit me with the glass mate
Sunday morning
You see I told you that the Christians have morals
Sunday morning
Telling you about taking a long time to get a cpap machine to help my sleep apnea
Sunday morning
I feel like making a hangover cure out of raw egg gherkin and peanut butter
Sunday morning
Saying you were just at the club celebrating party night in a nighty and old t shirt
Sunday morning
15 million bottles of scotch to party on Saturday night
Sunday morning
You tell god you didn’t mean to do as you try to confess
I try and party to but the next morning I feel ****

Thank you and now that is it see you guys

Earthdate/starttime: 11/04/19 01:10:26 AM
Earthdate/endtime: 11/04/19 02:55:46 AM

Poetic snapshot regarding immediate
actual, physical, spatial... environment
pertinent, relevant, salient... yours truly
commenced within fleeting electronic

date/time stamp indicated above bereft
attempts to describe character sketch,
whereat I sit within Apartment B44:
taking immediate lock, stock & barrel

ordinary repeated situation witnessing
garden variety **** sapien imbibing
familiar scenario, while spouse sleeps
near proximity, CPAP machine regulates

continuous positive airway pressure
offsetting sleep apnea breathe more so
she can breathe free and clear preventing
airway from collapsing when she inhales.

Nothing particularly spectacular wee hour
this ordinary moment beckoned, challenged
decided... attempt to focus (laser like) sense
and sensibility without pride, nor prejudice
essentially simply worded still life repeated
predictably, & regularity glossed over other
instances finding impetus preying upon pro-

fun ditties, and expansive vocabulary unsure
communicated printed idea understandable
aware some readers disinclined wading thru
thicket (quagmire) of verbiage, hence eureka
experience to corral immediate circumstance
(think Will Rogers' 140th birthday his home
spun extemporaneous anecdotal nuggets.)

Many occasions embarking upon complexity
aspire to elaborate intricate worded webbed
(wide aye bother) complex edifice ambitious
invariably confounding unsuspecting readers
suddenly sinking within quicksand helpless

against salvation, hence painstaking effort
to asseverate downplaying sesquipedalian
rather toning down syllabification sharing
trumpeting, undulating humdrum existence
verily reporting sleeping on floor - courtesy
restless leg syndrome, which affects the mrs.

Marriage basically no match heavenly made,
nonetheless dynamic linkedin travails values
wifely attentiveness to prepare unrecognized
frying object (best described as pop slop), +

she tends other domestic chore, viz washing
soiled clothes nsync of kitchen, whiling away
(think dervish) stoking chaos within invisible
re: nearly infinitesimal speck within Milkyway.

Social Distancing
Face masks
Check your temperature
Persistent Cough
Stay at home
Keep your distance
Two metres apart
Stay Alert

Defeat the Virus
Protect the NHS
Save Lives
Wash your hands
Sing the National Anthem
Twice
Covid Secure workplace

Work from Home
Daily Death Rate
Keep the r
Below one
Exercise once a day
Jo Wicks
Zoom meetings

Stay safe
Care Homes
ICU
Furlough Scheme
Global Pandemic
Vaccine
Treatment
Wuhan

Viral Pneumonia
CPAP
BiPAP
Care workers
Delivery Drivers
Emergency Budget
Recession
Thursday Clap

Flatten the peak
Second Wave
Clean Air
Bird song
Binge Watch
Netflix
Daily Briefing
Never Ending

Lawrence Hall
[email protected]  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                     ­    Offering it Up at 0200

Offering up the surging pain - but to whom?
There doesn’t seem to be Anyone there
The hissing CPAP doesn’t want to talk
Outside the window there is no good-night moon

One could allude to the clock ticking in the night-time
But there is no clock ticking in the night-time
Because there are no clocks to tick anymore
Only computers manacled to our wrists

Two-o’clock-in-the-morning courage?
Just now there seems to be no Purpose in it