Reality Knocking On Dreams Door Poem by Not Long Left

Absorbing eyes,
Scan red meadows.
Perfumed pollen,
Ballet dances,
upon the transparent sky.
Flowers wave to invisble friends,
as they bend in the heavy wind.
Faces of my make up,
Hang from yellow branches,
Crying and smiling
in tortured turn.
Lost lovers hang onto battered birds wings.
They do not want to fall back to me.

Mountains rise and sink into the earth,
Like a discarded bottle,
upon the head of the hungry sea.
Peach skinned babies,
play Russian roulette,
with needles full of herion,
Each cherubic mouth chuckling.
Mothers dusty dressing gown,
is wrapped around Nana's grave.

Hands of time, sound out horses hooves,
rushing and resting.

A bird chirps somewhere,
Softly at first,
Then louder, louder still.
Till my ears explode.
Eyes open and light floods in.

Beside me the phone is ringing.