Robert Frost I Am Not

A week or so ago I published that long string of loosely connected thoughts describing my own version of anxiety plagued insomnia. I said I was going to use it as a brainstorming platform to put together a real poem. I had been looking into poetry formats trying to understand things like rhythm and meter, and thought it might be interesting and challenging to try and write poetry that followed some set structure. I have to admit I only marginally understood what I was reading, and began to get really lost on the stressed syllable stuff. I know it’s not all that hard, but I have trouble reading about it. If I could actually hear it conversation I have no doubt it would be clear to me. I said I would share the poem here when it was done. Over the last week I have come to understand that it will never be done so I will share in today’s form.


Weary mind says it won’t happen tonight

The instrument that lets a man function

That notion it won’t befall me

With death the only certainty


On this night natural systems have failed

Quite voices will sabotage nature’s law

A vague sense of unease prevails

Whose detection will extinguish


There is a wicked presence in this room

Threats need watching, but eyeing brings fear

The dreadful glow will stay silent

The noise is inside. Tick. Tock. Tick.


Heat rises, the essence begins to flow

The soul cringes while the rhythm increases

The air is cool but still it pours

Pulse racing on beyond control


Inside an urge to flee comes to grow

There is not a bear; the threat is not real

But the truth has no place here

The fear is false, but feels so true


Cold and damp with a chill as rhythm slows

Lateness of night gives way to early morn

The Bear is gone tension eases

A fragile comfort settles in


Will mornings first hours bring restful respite

Or will a false signal bring rising heat and fear

Sudden urgency brings the answer

There will be no break on this night



2 thoughts on “Robert Frost I Am Not

  1. “The noise is inside.” This comment really relates to me. I find this to be the most frustrating part about insomnia. It’s especially annoying when the only noise outside is my husband snoring–makes me a little bitter!!

    Thanks for this poem…glad to know I’m not alone!

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