while you slumber in a deep sleep
doors open
paths are revealed
as your subconscious
explores each new field
secret vaults in the corridors of your imagination
where your soul is concealed
open with prophetic dreams
that are unsealed
in the light of a new day
-30-
I’m happy as can be
being me
a guy who writes poetry
A wanderer among words
a purveyor of verbosity
I soar into skies of stories
not yet told
in broken sentence safaris
my imagination uncontrolled
-30-
The poet paints meaning into every color
each cleverer than the other
Blue is as inspiring as the sky
Purple makes people sigh
Gold is shiny and bold
Sea Green is slimy and cold
Orange is an autumn day
There’s various shades of grey
Yellow is bright and enlightening
Black can be good or frightening
Every color in the rainbow
delivers messages in nature’s road show
-30-
There are alternate realities despite what some may say
There’s more mystery than just the passing of each day
seers, wizards, prophets, fortune-tellers, are visionaries
who explore hidden realms with their own itineraries
using portals as entries
portals can be found in mirrors
forests and mountains
their everywhere
secrets to dimensions to nowhere
or in your nightmares
and your fantastical dreams
nothing is as it seems
-30-
the window to my imagination is open
revealing an inquisitive mind
on the other side
a parade
a spectacle
wonders
fantasies
celebrations
exposed
for all to see
for those who
want to know me
***
Let reality fly away
but not suffer Icarus’s fate
like a morality play
meant to recriminate
freedom of fantasy
gives us wings
and virtual reality
that imagination brings
let our visions soar
with inspiration
and passion
to fuel fascination
and creativity
before the altar of curiosity
*****
whatever made you look at these lines of cobbled words
stitched together like a tapestry hanging from my imagination
waiting for eternal condemnation?
silly sentences strung out in a parade of useless information
stuck together with super glue and honey – a sweet creation
containing a hidden message that must be lurking near
between adjectives and verbs and visions of a good beer
there lies no motivation for sounding so insincere
it’s simply that
I’m glad you’re here!
***
interconnecting anyplace
dimensional corridors
embrace
dual realities
compete
in cyberspace
over the fate
of the
human race
***
in the book of life
there needs to be
a chapter on fantasy
where reality
retreats
and good vibes soar
with special fantasies
that help restore
vigor
**
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?
I‘m still waiting.
The end.
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