Outside the cold dream-realm
There’s a town on the outskirts
Where we have all felt
Compelled to take a stand
Against the demons within ourselves
We banged the gates down
We made impossible demands
And we were left stranded
In the cold dream-realm lands
The blown flowers fell and filled my lap
And the sensation was so strange,
Like being sucked into a dream
That was not my own, but the
trances of hermits in open
Fields filled with many suns
I am my father’s son, I know,
Because I refuse to believe what
mass media tells me,
Advertisements soak my skull
Like bloody sponges, secreting
Trivial information and data
Collected by régime clerks
The radiant room inside your mind – lit with bright pinks, purples, and blues. Deep inside the dream world, we’ve accessed your subconscious. Down the narrow halls, leading to forbidden desires. What lies beyond the door?
Beyond the bright door
Lies memories that make you
And also break you
The lights flickered once, and we knew
what was to come, walking in the
crumbling building,
collapsing like a sandcastle
on top of us, buried underneath now
gasping for air, losing our sense
of reality, a dream-land of
new colors and shapes,
smothered and can’t escape,
‘till the ominous face appeared,
like the Wizard of Oz
the face covered with sores
Most times, my dreams aren’t profound, nor do they make much sense. Dream-logic, I’m told, never does. But this dream felt different. My father appeared on the football field of my youth. In life, he was a short man. But in this dream, he towered over me.
He wore denim dream-jeans, faded blue, and ripped at the knees. He smoked a giant dream-cigarette, and the smoke billowed like it was from a power plant. His dream-muscles were large and imposing, like Zeus’.
Continue readingin dreams, i tremble
before unseen forces
always at work behind
scenes & a screen
of smoke that masks their faces
but not beaming eyes
that stare from shadowed corners
of my brain
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