Saturday 4 December 2010

Dreamworld

In between day and night
When things quiet down
Shadows come to light
And something emerges

From the dark abyss
Of oblivious functioning
Sensing something's amiss
In all this
That what I’m led to believe
Can’t be right
That somehow I’ve lost sight
Of the point, the purpose, the goal
There’s no soul
In this life
Lived according to conventions
And I wonder
Where I’ve been all day
For I wasn’t really here
In the now
And somehow
Feel like losing myself
In a dream world

Where days seamlessly
Go from one to the next
Without me


13 comments:

  1. Like the way your thoughts go here, and the sense of being apart from reality. Know the feeling, it's most odd!


    http://jessicasjapes.wordpress.com/2010/12/06/snow/

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  2. lovely.. here's mine! http://fiveloaf.wordpress.com/2010/01/15/head/

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  3. You create a sense of drifting with your words...quite lovely.

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  4. magical ....

    have fun reading some of the entries near you.
    Thanks for the lovely contribution.

    A+

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  5. wonderfully flighty poem. loved it!

    I am one of the officials with Jingle Poetry and I would love to interview you for Wednesday's Meet The Poet on Jingle Poetry. All you need to do is answer some simple questions that I can email to you. Let me know if you are interested.

    My email - christopher@jonesing.com

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  6. Dreamy and disconnected. Has a looseness that makes the work seem effortless. Well done. Gay @beachanny

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  7. the sense of being but not existing, good write
    http://words4afriend.wordpress.com/2010/12/06/plateau/

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  8. You captured well the battle of survival and living. Do we just exist, or is there more?

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  9. Thank you everyone for stopping by and taking the time to comment. Your encouragement and feedback is as always much appreciated :-)

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  10. A great write, it felt like a wisp driven float as I read

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  11. very nice - a tangible and connected dream.

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  12. I loved this take on the dream state where it is like being an audience member instead of the conductor we are in our day-to-day.

    My potluck: so maybe

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