Unpremeditated?

In the coils and toil of my own monster,
poetry, I'm caught, no way out but in,
sleep is the perilous waking of dream,
sleeplessness is fraught feeling seeking words

demanding to be let out and let in,
these words are tumbling from I know not where,
often rumbling like sudden inner earthquake,
plate moves, releases new extremity

I am scribe who scratc…