I'm waiting to hear your next piece, Kaydi. Still enjoying this one, but I'm curious for the new.

I love this piece--a nice bit of poetry that delivers some lightness and clever word play--does every spoken word piece have to be an angry protest?

Bed

One third of each day spent here,
equals one third of an entire life.
Two thirds of that third
most likely this square will be shared.
Coil springed pad in a sea of room
to set down and dream on.
No wheels or wings it has
but travel is its target.
From womb to crib to cot to grave--
somewhere in there--thrown
from single to queen, we bump
and collide like twins
on the crest of stormy sleep.
After one third of two thirds
of that third, spent boxed in a seven by seven,
lynched of of falling, snagged by snores
and dreaming your elbow is chewing
my lower back, I want to push
you off the bed, but I don’t.
They say if you hit the ground
while you’re dreaming,
you never come back.
How do we jump from wakefulness
and land safely on this budding swoop of sleep?
We lie flat on our beds. That’s how.
I hope dying is like that. The last time
my spirit lies flat on its bones--
calcium pad in this sea of sky
to set down and dream on,
no wheels or wings, but still able to fly.
I hope dying is like that. Spirit, two thirds
life, the other third a dream,
without your elbow in my back, please.

Hi Dear Kaydi,
I love the sound and the lyrics! Very pleasant to listen to! Thanks Kaydi, Blessings to you always, Annie

Though it is quite good, and the lyrics rise to the level of poetry.

As a poet of longstanding I can't writely call this spoken word because the chorus is sung.

Outstanding,humor filled a real Gem, loved it..Bravo

Shadow