It’s five in the morning; I should be alone,
the only one up in this house,
as I finish what I started twenty-four hours ago,
this poetry marathon, a sleepless creative
hell of my own making, only because I have
to work in two hours and then fry myself on
a soccer field after that–ah but sleep.
She’s just around the turned corner of the morning.
But who do I hear creaking the floorboards above me?
It’s she who sometimes doesn’t sleep at night.
The insomnia came after the concussion, that kick
in the head just over one year ago.
I saw her asleep at eight, while I was on poem fourteen.
I’m not surprised to hear her stomp, stomp, pull open
a drawer, stomp, stomp, and plop into her squeaky bed.
I had forgotten how quiet the night was in my room
when she was away at college up north, playing soccer.
But at this hour, this sacred sleep hour when no one
arises or goes to bed, I lay in my bed, IPad propped on
my naked belly, the screen’s light, casting a shadow on
the ceiling while the fan blows white noise about me,
and struggle through the last “poem” of this marathon,
the final, number twenty-four, for which I am thankful.
Post script: This was the last poem of a grueling 24 hours, and as the hours plodded on, my poetry became more prose blips or journal entries than poetry, aside from the form.
So, is this really poetry? What makes a poem? Inquiring minds need to know.
In the gaze of the other 
In my opinion, that’s the beauty of poetry. It can be anything you choose and in any format. Sure there are “defined” structures in poetry; but, this work here, definitely poetry. Beautiful piece. I felt like I was in the house with you.
Thank you so much. I feel the same. There are few rules when it comes to free verse, non-metered and non-rhyming. I think it has to do with line break choice and condensed imagery. But I was recently told by an editor that the poem I submitted was an essay. That confused me.
Why muddy art and expression with rules?! Why must we always have so many rules to expressing ourselves. Perhaps it is more of an essay according to an editor. But, I say, if it’s a poem to you…then it’s a poem. Period.
Agree. Yes.
What makes a poem different from a story or an essay (imo) is that poetry primarily conveys emotion, not a message, while the opposite is true for stories and essays. In this poem, though it wasn’t lengthy, there was so much emotion expressed: the insomnia, the anxiousness to finish, the gratitude, and the injury of the daughter, something that grabbed me instantly as a mother. I was very focused on that; not everyone might be. That’s what is so wonderful about poetry, to me. Readers can find these gems that the poet might not have even intended to be important. In a poem, everything is important though.
Thank you, Paula. Some of the best poetry I’ve read moved me to thought or feeling. I try to convey the images outside of me so readers can “see” or otherwise sense what I do. It’s all I know.