Hypnagogic Poetry

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The Jan/Feb 2019 Poets&Writers Magazine has an article called “The Hour Between Dog and Wolf” by Melissa Burkley that talks about hypnagogia, a term for the “mental twilight” during the first few minutes of sleep and when we’re just waking up when we experience dream imagery and enough conscious control to remember it.

P&W Collage #8 – Hypnagogic

Edison was said to nap with a spoon in his hand over a metal bowl so that the moment he fell asleep the spoon would drop with a clang and wake him. In the article, Burkley describes the artist Dalί holding a key over an upside-down plate. She calls this a vertical nap.

I’ve tried this technique, and it worked for an odd Christmas poem in 2021, The Red Candle. It feels strange that it has been so long. I remember that imagery and writing that poem so vividly. I’m also surprised that I don’t use such a fun technique more often. I’ll have to work it into my writing practice. Maybe make time for it once or twice a week for an afternoon writing session.

The Prompts

NaPoWriMo : Write an ode celebrating an every day object.

PAD Challenge : Two for Tuesday – 1. Write a love poem 2. Write an anti-love poem

dVerse Poets Pub : Today’s poetics prompt is to write a poem after “My Box” by Gillian Clarke. “write a poem about your own metaphorical box. It doesn’t necessarily have to be about a relationship, but I would like it to be autobiographical, free verse, and in three stanzas similar to those in Clarke’s poem: the first stanza describes the box; the second what is in it; and the third where you keep it, with a summarizing list in the final two lines.”

I used this as an opportunity to explore my paper cube poetry writing tool from April 2nd: Poetry as Boxes.

Today’s Poem

Ode to My Scissors by Maria L. Berg 2024

A Paper Box with Scissors Inside

My box is made of paper
cut with the scissors
my words put inside.
I made it out of the
many-sided possibilities
of entering a poem.

I stuffed my box with all the words
to write an ode to my scissors
the sounds they make, how they feel on my face
and how they look like a diving bird
when held upside down.
I closed my ode inside my box
so I only see blank sides
with no clue to what I’ll see
when entering the poem.

I hold my box in my hand
and turn it many times
then opening the side I face
I read I was right; they’re stains
Close my box, turn, and open again
The dark gray handle mottled
and worn by skin oils
then one more turn
and I open to read
Marked as mine
with a single piece of clear tape
This is a box full of words,
age-stained blades,
diving birds, and love
entering a poem.


See you tomorrow!

Published by marialberg

I am an artist—abstract photographer, fiction writer, and poet—who loves to learn. Experience Writing is where I share my adventures and experiments. Time is precious, and I appreciate that you spend some of your time here, reading and learning along with me. I set up a buy me a coffee account, https://buymeacoffee.com/mariabergw (please copy and paste in your browser) so you can buy me a beverage to support what I do here. It will help a lot.

28 thoughts on “Hypnagogic Poetry”

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  5. Amazing mix of poetic creativity and craftsmanship; I love one poem being so many possibilities both when you look at the outside of the box and when you open it. Really enjoyed the info you shared about hypnagogia as well; whenever it happens to me, I feel like I am privy to multiple phone conversations between friends and strangers – and although it may sound easy, it is definitely challenging to weave it into poetry like you did here!

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