Cold water morning

sleep slinks away.
strange dreams
speak
in symbols foreign,
drowning me
with meanings
I deny.

old man at the door -
will I be you?
and where?
oh boy in the yard -
was I you?
and now?

a music plays
in my mind.
no notes,
no tunes,
only inchoate voices.
some, my own.
some, others'.
what they say,
I pretend
not to fathom.

sleep leaves -
a lover lost,
but memories morph,
mutate,
into dreams,
into lies,
into truths?

wakefulness
disappoints
in its
vexed vividity,
the imperfectness
of sleep
I seek,
this cold water morning.

***

Seems like I can't stop myself even if I want to :-) -- back again, but yes, posts will be sporadic till work eases up. Thanks for missing me ;-)

Away for a while

Work just caught up - won't be posting for a while. Will be back soon.

Music

claims the soul

a pagan God, benign;

the sacrifice survives,

lives, listens, lives

perfuses

elevates

liberates

throbs the being

a gentle storm,

ship and sea

soar and crash as one

enervates

inebriates

exhilarates

numbs the mind

a pain-killing drug --

psychedelic realms

revisited repeatedly

soothes

stirs

salvages