You know that point when you feel like you’re stuck between being awake and asleep?? You lie in bed and you can’t seem to move even though you feel as if you are awake; however, you can still feel, see, and hear your dreams (namely the bad/odd ones). At that point you feel like you’re hallucinating or on a really bad acid trip.
When it’s over I usually like to write about because I feel that what you see can make an interesting poem.
This poem was taken directly from a dream I had during that awesome part of the night:
And she,
a kaleidoscope of black and white images, is in play before me.
Contorted,
the images shake.
She tilts her head
from side to side, watching me
moving quicker than my eyes could understand.
In a trance, I stand
and watch as her picture transforms
____________________
Images of children
jumping on tables and swimming through shattered glass play before me.
One child smiles
a thousand smiles.
Its mouth stretches above its head,
engulfing the small being.
It is enveloped;
the muscles expand before me.
Flexing its huge grin,
it swallows the tiny life
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