men, made of clay, stand watch
and i walk
or run
or fly
jump off this skyscraper
to land
numb ~
broken and intact
while the bomb is still
tick
tick
tick-ing
i am inside, not out
(didn’t i just leave?)
where no one knows the way
where my voice is nonexistent
and i scream;
incapable ~
only to draw grey clay looks
seasoned with grey clay smirks
while i
run in circles (tick tick tick)
round
round
rOund
succumb to painted windows
finally
find (my fear) the roof exit
and jump
again – eager
to leave the madhouse behind
please, just this once.
please. please…
beep
beep beep
beep beep
i wake in cold sweat
and find
this monstrous mind
at ease
…until i dream again.
__________________________________________________________________
Brian over at dVerse is chasing monsters today…write a poem and come join us at the Bar!
photo credits: skyscraperobsession.com
Another Wandering Soul 
Your verse made me recall Neo in the Matrix.
“men, made of clay, stand watch
and i walk
or run
or fly”
Did you plan it to be surrealistic?
Shakti
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surrealistic, yes… though i never thought of Matrix! ha! 😀 thanks for the smile
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Very frightening progression. The round, round, round definitely puts the reader right inside the dream with you. I hope somehow you find a way to shake this repeating dream….
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i wish there was a recipe or strategy for waking up… thanks for the visit, Mary!
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This is beautiful all around. Love it.
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thanks, glad you enjoyed it 🙂
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