Poetry | Stories | Photography
I hover between sleep and awake, feeling the effects of waking dreams and a death-like calm.
The music presses me on through feelings of exhaustion and stressed-out commitments.
When the song stops, I find myself falling towards the keyboard.
I hover, then give in to my dreams.
You are so far away
over there somewhere,
someplace I’ve never seen.
“The forest is alive here”,
you say to me from so far away.
“I can see the photos,
yet I can’t be there with you.”
“Come, be with me, here.”
That is your dream, not mine;
My dream is here in this land.
You love your dream.
I love my dream;
Surely, there’s a way
to merge the two.
I didn’t hear
from you yesterday.
Yesterday afternoon,
I dropped our
favourite fruit bowl.
I watched it smash into
so many pieces.
I found out today you died
in the forest
yesterday afternoon my time;
a heart attack.
Now I’m travelling to you.
It took your death to bring
our dreams together,
if only for a short time.
Once, we slept little
and
moved around often,
chasing ambitions
and
seizing the long days.
Now, we sleep little
and
haunt the nights
looking for signs of life
and
who we used to be.
At night we write
and
overthink the future;
in the day we sleep
and
peel back the layers.
One day I slept too long
and
peeled back your dreams –
the colour had
drained
from the images.
Night turns to day,
Day turns to night.
Night and Day become
meaningless states of being.
Insomnia takes hold,
a cursed Monday child;
the moon loves them so.
Writing in the cold and quiet
night where dreams once lived.
Where have our dreams gone?
Dreams have taken over the Day.
Deconstructed horrors, terrible acts,
death and torture, our daily drugs.
Gorging on nightmares throughout the day,
wishing for dreams to stay in the night-
Far away.
Spinning tales in the darkness
as you sleep and dream loudly.
I blamed you for taking my dreams,
as you look at me hurting so much.
You said I took your dreams from you,
for meeting me changed you so much.
In paper dreams, you and I are one;
looking for the light, we cannot see.
If sleep came knocking
I would still sit by the sea
Lost in coral dreams
You sit at your desk. A coffee fragrance clutters the air; clicking keyboards fade away.
You’re with a king having beautiful babies or sitting quietly in a grand garden contemplating the fate of worlds.
Your Reverie gives your eyes a dreamlike quality as you fade away.
While you slept
in dreams,
I longed for your touch.
C & K 