People.
All images
Imagined and unseen.
All minds,
Ancient, rusting, rain filled jars of nails,
Shimmering in an open meadow.
Where a knight, in the dull grey armour of fear,
Rides the golden horse;
The stag of a monument,
To Isis, Jesus, to man.
He breaks the jars
With jousts of laughter
As sick as stagnant pond moss;
Tadpoles in a cool tall glass,
Of mothers milk.
The nails fall
Shinning brown and brittle
In the harsh sun,
Oxidizing Green
In the form of a butterfly,
Gliding among the towers;
Among the unbroken, tilted
Jars of hate,
Where no awareness
Seeps into the silt covered glass,
Airtight and stale.
H - You wouldn't believe them. I actually dreamed about Robert Conrad and the Blacksheep the other night. Boy do I need to write about that!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Do you occasionally check your inbox? Dreams can be enhanced (their recall also) by extra Vitamin B 6. But stay below 200 mg per day (in conjunction with a good multiple vit/min pill) . When you take too much you will have bizarre dreams (good for poetry?)