Trapped in a Dream?

I’m ready to wake up now.

It’s been fun surfing on monster waves in Hawaii in weather so beautiful it was post card perfect. Those two beach bunnies were a nice touch. Literally. Heh! heh! Everyone was real nice to me, and smoking pakalolo with those two Philippine fishermen was a cool experience, but I want to wake up now.

There must be rules.

Nothing is wrong with me. I’m healthy and happy. Just sleeping. So why can’t I get up? Shakespeare wrote,

“Are you sure

That we are awake?

It seems to me

That yet we sleep,

we dream”

In The Midsummer Night’s Dream.

This quote haunts me because I’m sure I’m awake, yet somehow dreaming at the same time. It stirs instincts from other lives that were hidden from my consciousness and are now scampering about like free rabbits in the wild.

What am I doing wrong?

Is it possible to forget how to wake up? Is that little piece of information in code somewhere in my unconscious? Did it grow tired of waiting for me to open my eyes and shrivel up? Way too many questions here. I have to pull back and not panic. I appear to be stuck in a nightmare. As soon as I get the right neurons to move from my cerebellum to the cerebral cortex it will go away.

I’m waiting.

Maybe I’m having the mother of all daydreams. Daydreams. That’s it. I’m having the most intense daydream ever experienced by a human. I don’t know why I was singled out for this dubious honor, but I’m over it. Time to move on. I have a life to live. Is anyone out there listening?

Im still waiting.

The end.

Be Still

Focus inward if you will

to that inner voice

that whispers be still

listen

breath

inhale

exhale

be open

to what’s

spoken

from the

heart

murmers

in the mind

listen

breath

inhale

exhale

be still

and learn

to be kind

and expand

your mind

Bubble Troubles

we all live in a bubble

seeking verification

on cable TV

because we live in

an insecure society

there’s bubbles for the wealthy

and bubbles for the poor

there’s bubbles for races

and more

someday hopefully

there will not be

all these bubbles

with their troubles

in our country

Looking In The Mirror

at first glance baby laughs or cries

when she looks in the mirror

and sees her eyes

but as the years go by

she forms a relationship

and greets her visage

in friendship

with selfies

and a discerning eye

looking to defy

age while still youthful

and beautiful

with cosmetics that lie

looking in the mirror

can begin

and end

with fear

but in-between

that mirror

must be near!

Too Soon

the stirring started when he became a teen

a young buck who fell for a beauty queen

the strange sensation in his groin a mystery

a newly found interest in the female anatomy

but when the day came

to ask the girl for a date

he just couldn’t concentrate

that fateful afternoon

because a shy voice in his head whispered… Too soon.

A Mental Wall

it’s too easy to build a mental wall

a barrier to all things big and small

when we get carried away with ideology

and the politics of the day

communication is cornered by fear

when a person believes everything they hear

tossing logic aside to build a mental wall

has been many a man and woman’s downfall

a wall keeps knowledge out

leaving the builder with doubt

about what is right or wrong

and what’s weak and what’s strong

so don’t burden your brain

with barriers that could drive you insane

Nightmares and Fears

100 words –

The heathen hoard clambered over the remnants of the consciousness wall, bringing madness to the chaos already imbedded there.

Reality is readily routed. The dreamer tries to break the dark ties, but only finds loathsome things like nightmares. Ghastly memories rooted in time tip-toe through their unconscious mind.

Unforgiving monsters stalk the sleeping brain, seeking tears by using fears built up through the years. Slumbering memories of sadness step around madness every night in a silent fight against nightmares and fears.

The gods comment: “Poor humans. They’re so frail that their minds are held hostage when they go to sleep.”

Something In A Dark Corner

200 words –

The interior lights were all turned off and a sense of something ancient lingered in the room. The lone resident was huddled next to the nearly dead fireplace holding onto a black iron poker. One charred log was still smoldering and a faint trail of smoke slithered into the darkness.

“Come out and show yourself,” the old man said in an unsteady tone tinged with fear.

No sound issued from the dark corner where the old man’s eye’s struggled to see what was lurking there. He sensed a presence. Whatever was in the corner, it was watching him.

Once he fancied he saw two glaring eyes. After standing for hours his legs were getting weak. It wasn’t responding to his repeated question, “What do you want?

Polarized with fear and indecision, the man grew weaker. The black iron poker became too heavy to hold and fell onto the wooden floor with a loud thud.

No response from the dark corner.

A faint light slowly filtered through the curtains bringing a new day. In the yellow glow the corner revealed it’s occupant. A cat on a chair.

But the old man didn’t know that. He was sprawled on the floor, dead.

Hate

Hate is an acquired trait.

We’re not born hating the world around us. An infant has a clear conscience with the ability to love without reservation.

But so-called civilization infuses us with hate, as we struggle to survive in an unjust world. Blinded by hate, people lash out over ideologies and beliefs of others. Hate’s sidekick fear, leads the way and opens the doors to our eventual destruction.

Being cursed with the ability to hate, often for no good reason, is mankind’s bane. It’s an inverted cross to bear for all those who give in to hate without a fight.

Truth and Consequence

When Harold saw the thing slithering out from beneath his bed he felt both vindicated and horrified.

His parents wouldn’t listen to him the first time he became aware of it’s presence. That’s why he wasn’t on the bed tonight and hiding behind his chest of drawers with a baseball bat.

When the thing slithered on top of his bed and wound itself around his pillow, he rushed out and smashed it into a bloody pulp!

The next morning.

“Have you seen a boa constrictor around?” his mother asked. “Billy next door said his pet boa escaped.”

No,” he lied.