05 March 2011



what in the name of blue funk –
a blaze of purple silhouettes in
horned merino shapes, manic
crimson flickering as each
displacing outline glows
erasing that preceding it;
dozing half awake

for heaven’s sake, it could be
very grave, imagination freed
by hyper sleeplessness, and
still dour signs persist – unkind
smears of ingrained dirt
innate to irk in pores
of surreality

shaking head will fail to free
the tendrils minds-eye grip it
misted as solidity – time-warped
light bending hope into illusive
truth – yet I awoke
appeased, gave myself

in a daze ‘tho no bereft apology 
clairvoyant articulateness isn’t
the catch-22; soothing hands
reading faint emanations from
my head found less to fear
than hope for future clarity
in echoes thus accepting me
© 10 November 2010, I. D. Carswell