Rock, paper, scissors...

Sleepy lids close like dull curtains

awareness changes to deep REMs                         
I am sitting on Saturn's rings

  feeling like mercury sliding

traveling supersonic speeds,

  seems like millions of miles per hour;

 luscious drops of lemon frosting

   landing on my extended tongue 
while toes prance balancing the edge
  of space, smiling stars greeting me
while painted planets deliver 

  everyday birthdays on moonbeams,
benevolent rays of spun gold,
 glittering orbs of platinum                                             

Then abruptly I am frozen,

  halted from that jettisoned state 
a motionless gold panned nugget
  from warm silk to solid cold rock,
feeling free on that steely ride,
  then becoming a naked knot
of ore in a finished train crash
  becoming solid asteroid
Fearful of this recurring dream,
  I awoke crumpled in my bed,
 got up, went to my mother's room -
I couldn't tell her where I'd been
  I was the earth's cold beginning
before it's fire lit deep inside -
  How I became the smooth lava
flowing from where the earth first stirred

  Then how suddenly turned into
solid  unsculpted stone statue 
  with extraordinary knowledge
of how it actually feels 
to be inanimate, yet still
  have a range of human feelings
catatonic, without a voice

Recalling those childhood nightmares

 when into mother's room I ran,

to be comforted, but instead

  they returned again and again         

In this life full of conundrums

  are we to learn just how things end..                               

except what good and evil lurk

  in labyrinths of complexity?

What is the point to be made if

  there's no reason for anything? 
Will we find that illusive peace?

Drifting away to Djibouti...

Dreams unrealized 
drift against green grey silk 
pillows oft cried in;

no more pulled covers over her head
while she sleeps,

as Kingdoms transition and fall -

even under the most 
abiding skies...

The good ship "false hope"

steams across safe harbor's bay;

mirages of new truths appear

o'er jeweled seas of 

love and trust,

where gossamer fork-tongued 

bridges span years of time.

Ninety degrees west of there -

floating colors in hula hand waves, 
 pinwheels of childhood,
and farther still, shorelines 
that embroider her name - places like 

Spain and Djibouti 

Upon awakening she turns and 
looks from whence 
she once came

and stares at the world anew,

 sees things no longer are the same;

finding wars she did not expect,

lies she lived in others' eyes -

feeling betrayed

Roses bearing full weight 

of droplets held that wait to 
be cried down again, 

washing away her signature

from the sands of time,

freeing her soul 
from pain

This was a fun exercise as Claudia today asked us to write about one of the paintings by Judith Clay. Both are from Germany and we see the fairy tale and whimsical traits they both have in their respective talents.  Read more over at dversepoets.com

Interplay...

Miltonian  sonnett :

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Set in a dream within another dream,                                                                    

weaving together each our narratives,
the wizard creates with imperative
minded by a specific color scheme.  
The veil of time intertwines with a theme    
 - not visible as the main causative
Forming a coverlet affinitive,                                        
an inter-playing of underside seams
Unaware we, the ins, outs of our days 

awaking from dreams with common corners,  
thus reassuring all things made thereof -
the original dream dreamed never fades 
by turning the moon around one quarter
All that sorely counts is how much we love