“Mess! His mind’s a mess!”
Were I To Be A Tree
Were I to be a tree, only but a few
pressing concerns would plague my
petiolar mind. Foremost being the present
equilibrium (or lack thereof) between rain
and sunshine at any given moment. Short
of the random yet necessary question of
how cold one’s branches would feel in the
wintertime with no appropriate coverage
of foliage to protect. For the latter,
concern is easily quenched and abated
with the decision that I would be an
evergreen. Assessing and acknowledging
these risks, I adamantly pronounce that I
want to be a big, huge tree.
Continue reading “Were I To Be A Tree”
All puns intended.
“I was assailed by memories of a life that wasn’t mine anymore, but one in which I’d found the simplest and most lasting joys…”
– Albert Camus [The Outsider, 1942]
A Poem – Inbetween Awake & Asleep
Patiently still I listen and lay
For a creature of sand to come and say,
“To sleep with you, you weary wretch!
There are eerie dreams for you to sketch!”
A dark and warm inviting gaze
Emerges from blue twilight haze.
Heavy, my body sinks in a heap;
Weightless, I float through dizzying sleep.
Dream, young man. For your days are many.
But rest in the night while the world is uncanny.
That pulse is so loud; a thick throb in my ear.
Then silence twists through and there’s nothing to hear.
Cold, biting winds drag me slowly from slumber
With gusty white hands and my bed becomes sombre.
Grey in the light of a cold, rainy morning.
Please let me sleep more – away from the dawning.