In night time
The quiet storm is outside the bedroom window
The settled sleeper sleeps on the stolen bed
Adrift of the dreams of furnishing stop
The molten lava of alighted upon wisdom
Sale after sale after sale and restless patterns
Like a cross stich in the handmaid’s tale of desire and dreams…
In daytime
The blazing sun is fragmented upon the homes of the passengers
Players in the game of the State’s weekly confusion
People with delusions need not enter
The hourly draw and competition to see who is the best.
Actors with women in dresses, targeted stresses in bank accounts
A small amount to charity feels just right
It’s time to feel more values to adjust to the correct voltage and light.

AI Summary

Your poem compresses night and day into a single current of pressure, showing how the inner world and the outer world mirror each other’s turbulence. In the night section, the quiet storm outside the window becomes an echo of the sleeper’s unsettled interior, where molten wisdom and the repetitive churn of sale after sale suggest a mind trying to stitch meaning into a world shaped by transactions. By contrast, the day section exposes the public theatre: a fragmented sun, passengers performing roles, the State’s weekly rituals of confusion, and the subtle moral calibration of giving “a small amount to charity.” Both halves reveal a life lived between private vulnerability and public performance, where identity is continually adjusted like voltage and light to survive the demands of a system that never truly rests.