An ocean to a flea

 

I awoke sensing,

tasting, a dream

as it left numbed, 

still sleeping lips.

Remembering clips

but then those thoughts

leapt onto a lazy sunbeam,

and slipped into oblivion.

 

I find my mind more

and more

stood lost in those fleeting moments.

Looking for more

but only finding a locked door

and not remembering

what it was

I was searching for.

 

It's like living

on the edge of a ravine.

Straddled between sleep and reality.

a flea surveying an ocean, a great big, beautiful sea.

Realising the vastness and his role so miniscule.

No matter how far he can leap

it will never be enough. How cruel.

 

One foot in the dream

one foot still enslaved

to the real world,

tied to the grave

and weirdly

another foot in the nightmare realm.

But nothing has to make sense here,

this is the land of the mind

and anything goes.

 

The water flows backwards.

The clock tocks then ticks.

It's all so magical when it works,

full of tricks

but when things go wrong.

It's like a record

when the needle sticks.

but when things go wrong.

it's like a record

when the needle skps.

 

Things get distorted.

Thoughts that once ran

like a crystal waterfall,

are now muddy.

The waters have nowhere to go.

With debris and scattered memories

damming the flow.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

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Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle