PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Again and again, I could not physically hit in my dream

Yet, those trees were waving and the lake was swaying

Though everything was fast, I remained in a slow stream

And the sky kept strobing like a big blue eye blinking...



At one point during the throbbing wind, I seemed free

I felt away from all the Dali visions and started flying

My weak arms tilted guiding me through complexity

As I inhaled, I flew higher into a jet stream with a ring



A ringing that quickly drew me into broken clock debris

Glass, screws, crowns, clowns, knobs, hands, and springs

The second hand gave direction out this flourishing spree

Slowly returned to the tranquilized clouds with no wings



Exhaling rapidly to feel ground and rest under a creepy tree

A leaf falls casting a watery reflection of me asphyxiating

I did not understand the meaning or what I needed to see

Until I was woken by unforgiving thunder and eery lightning