Theme: In my head

 

Dreams in my head

Drowsy, am I awake or asleep?
An image of the Northern Lights swirl round,
A whirlpool of colour, a vortex of exotic languages.
I clutch at the straw, to keep …
But the impression suddenly dims
And the focus changes.

Weightless, moving through objects.
Oneirology student, a modern Joseph in coloured coat.
A whirlpool of colour, a vortex of despotic songs.
Elvis is in the room, through bleary specs
I hear the audience applauding,
Egyptian tales exchanges.

Speechless, why can’t they hear me speaking?
Metamorphism from Lloyd Webber’s set,
A whirlpool of colour, a vortex of narcotic noise.
Now I am on the throne, silently shrieking,
Seven good years, seven bad.
Roles in sleep interchanges.

Drifting, is that me gently snoring?
Unfocussed but slowly clearing.
A whirlpool of colour, a vortex of patriotic applause.
Bafta nomination, acceptance speech boring.
And just as I reach for the statue
The foggy picture rearranges.

Drowsy, am I asleep or awake?
An image of the Northern Lights swirl round,
A whirlpool of colour, a vortex of chaotic thoughts.
The light is dimming, muzzy and opaque.
Vague impressions in my mind
Distant memories of shapes and sounds, surreal
That I try to cling onto, flitting through my brain.
But they are gone, unfinished and elusive.
And slumber gives way.
I am awake.

 

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