It starts off
As an ordinary day,
four alarms ring
at fifteen minute intervals
and I lay there
half awake
between thought and dream.
Like a maid or mother
she knocks loudly
on the door...
'Wake up it's late! '
And truly it was-
the dream had died
till another night,
A species extinct
in the world of thought.
No habitat on waking hours
for this creature of the night,
so he hides himself
as an imperfect plan
or fleeting memory.
Big bird clipped
of its wings
and forced to play chicken.
An alien tormented
by unknowing consciousness.
Sad that a father
should forget his son,
and call him madness
when he speaks.
This house; this mind
should be enough for both,
but choice brings the biased
and one-sided path
that leads to forgetfulness,
and the justification
they call 'growing up'.
As if adults do not dream.
'I'm awake! ',
I scream.
How false, how foul
that I should rise up today,
no better a man
than I was yesterday.
You write so descriptively, that it's possible to experience your poem. I enjoy reading your work. Also happy to have found a fellow South African. Well done
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
as it goes it changes... we never be the same as before... thank you, nice poem for reflection....