I have dreamed poetry’s sound.
Something quite profound.
But when I awake
the muse does me forsake.
In the labyrinth of my brain
no doubt the words remain
But I have mislaid the golden thread
that ran through my sleeping head.
Sometimes I get them down
while the world sleeps all around.
But oft they float away
lost in the light of day.
The unmonitored video tape
reveals what we can not escape.
The honeyed words we say
in the light of day
are swept away
at night
when our conscience doth delight
in stripping bare all pretence.
The fence
is down and nightmare
doth stare
Us full in the face.
The knowledge of disgrace
Causes the mind to race
In fear
As the truth stands near.
Even the fool
Knows the cassette will, one day, unspool
And lie tangled
Mmangled
Beyond repair
And the dark angel will be there.
Beautiful mountains, their peaks pointing to the sky.
I would die
for the chance to climb
That track sublime.
Would that I could sally
Into the verdant valley
That nessles between
Those hills green.
Oh to drink from the life giving stream,
Which does flow
Where few may go.
I can but dream.
Don’t look into another’s mind
For you may find
A fiend
Who stalks your dream.
You may discern a hole
Where the soul
Should be.
Perhaps it is better you can not see.
Do you possess the art
To look into your own heart?
To confront the demons who scheme
And haunt your dream?
The countenance pleasant may seem
But what goes on behind the screen?
Thank you to Victo Dolore from Behind The White Coat for publishing my poem, “Monster” which can be found by following this link, https://doctorly.wordpress.com/2015/08/29/from-the-guest-room/. Please do check out Victo’s blog.
Kevin
Waking early I lie,
Darkness still shrouds the sky.
One day or night I will die,
There will be no more awakening to the sky.
Is death the final sleep,
Through which no dreams creep?
Or a perpetual dream,
wherein our consciousness forever streams?
Often, when dreaming, I believe myself to be awake.
On waking, I realise my mistake.
But how can I be certain the land of sleep is behind,
That I am not in a dream confined?
I lack the wisdom of a divine,
So can not answers find.
The suffocating dark holds me tight,
Locked, in the arms of nightmare through the blackest of nights.
Sweating, unable to arise from my bed,
I lie, black imaginings running through my head.
A ghoul by the bookcase stands,
Intent on dragging me into death’s barren land.
What is that shadow on my bedroom door?
My dressing gown hanging or something more?
Dozing at my computer, pondering on what to write. Oh for a dreamless, refreshing sleep tonight!
The sound of the clock, each tick bringing it a little closer
An owl hoots in the park
A fox barks
Cars pass outside
The bed is warm
Somewhere a couple laugh
Time creeps onwards
I roll over
Sleep envelops,
I dream
Is death one long dream from which we never wake? And, if so would I know the difference between the state of dreaming and that of death?
Don’t go too deep
We Sleep
Dark thoughts released
The subconscious roams unpoliced
We weep
Don’t go too deep
K Morris - Poet 