Poetry Session: Land Of Smoke & Mirrors & Spirits

Monday, May 30, 2011

Here's a poem on the elusive fragmented layers of a dream that I've created based on more elusive thoughts that come popping by when least expected.

Land Of Smoke, Mirrors & Spirits

Dreams, you sly little reality-twisting worm..
Slide us,
into a world of freak shows,
or something slightly like this one,
but not quite the same,

Let us mingle with shadows,
the guardian or the trickster,
the anima or animus,
strolling in pairs,
afloat in radiantly green meadows.

We may lose direction,
avoid a turn, miss a pathway
get sucked into a breach in space,
who cares,
off we go,
transported to another existence,
by a snag in the fabric
of reality, poof!

Now we sit chin up,
poised as a princess,
sailing on a sleek ship,
staring at a clock,
Time is an old quack,
She's full of tricks.
Oh no..

Here we go,
gloomy weather,
We're beggars begging on the side
of a muddy street,
A glimmer of historic coin
caught in the wrinkle of our hands,
at the backdrop of psychedelic rainbows,
transformed into an infant,
we cry, cry cry..

The daylight sky smiles,
These purple suns are rolling,
rising and setting,
disappearing and reappearing,
repeat, we're on repeat,
all lines fade,
only to be remade..

Farmers we are now,
wet clothes reeked of chemical-stained sweat,
breathing life into these seedlings,
aged eyes,
weary life,
spent energy corrodes vitality,
of this flesh,
from these hands,
off these bones,
till we meet temporary
death..

Please,
Bees,
buzzing high on honey,
a sweet detour to,
thoughts,
delirious thoughts spiraling in and out,
to the beats of this wild wild heart
leg muscles twitching,
numbed minds,
still ceaseless thoughts,
we're drained from running,
camouflaged by dead tree trunks
we sit on guard behind giant bushes,
bloody tears paint our faces
escaped prisoners we are
wanted dead or alive,
we're alive..
aren't we not?

The silence creaks,
The half moons expand and shrink,
What is it about this strange land,
that only comes into full swing
in the heavy dark,
whilst we are drugged by
the deepest of REM sleep..

Image Credit:
thebluebookcase.blogspot.com


shanaz@RS | 12:34 AM | Labels:

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