Sunday, October 2, 2011


Silence is the language of the night 
where not a critter in sight 
stirs its little head to delight 
in the stars above out of sheer fright 
for the blinding light of gloom 
to heave in and seal approaching doom. 
 This was every nocturnal's nightmare of emission 
that could be our fate’s decision! 

Jumping out of bed almost abruptly like as if being thrown back into ones body from a midnight excursion the little boy bellows ‘oh, have I got the greatest notion of a wonderful potion’! Echoing back from those words like a boomerang the voices of his mind resound in synchrony: ‘your crazy’ ‘what need of a potion is there?’ ‘are you some mad scientist?’ ‘your still dreaming’ ‘wake up’! and so he did or so he thought he did. how would you tell? he pondered to himself. I still have the greatest notion of a wonderful potion so what would it matter to me or to you if I am awake or dreaming cause what I feel right now is most appealing, the fact that I could live and dream at the same time is most intriguing so what need would there be of sleeping if I am dreaming while being awake? (that is if the only purpose of sleeping is to dream) wouldn’t that mean that I am sleeping while awake? so if I sleep while being awake I should never be tired but if I’m awake while sleeping then I should always be tired. What a bloody contradiction?! I should get some rest! and so he did.

(his head falls back onto the pillow, the room grows dim and the window starts to glow)

oh what do you know? we have here a sleeper! yes, that's a keeper. hurry up before he wake or else there be a quake. saddle up his garmets, hold his under arm pits, watch the head, turn to the side instead, seal the door, so that there's nothing more!

(the boy was taken in the night as he slept. all that happens hereafter to him would be a dream or would it?)

would it be, that i am dead? here laying on this bed. i see my body but that's not all of me. it happens to be, that i am on the other side they say. i have crossed over no longer can i hide in clay. all is bare, all is aware. i've put on quite a scare. look at them this is rare. for man to pull out his own hair. don't you see i am here, can't you hear me up over there. though i sleep i am awake, this is only a dream for goodness sake! or is it? and so it was.

to be continued.... 
('carrolling' madness, puzzling play of words, creative flow writing)



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