Poets logo

The imagination of dreams,

while sleeping under a bough .

By Oliver MPublished 6 months ago 1 min read
1

I saw the stinky sky left me dry while it caught me crying and laughing at my own demise.

Although weary of all things in tow, I need not know.

Where would be my life not now nor tommorow.

How may I act when such cats prey on me,

whence a smile came to my eye then slept like a fly.

There I saw myself in mind's eye, that foggiest brain tried to step on my silliest insanities I could contain.

It imagine me, as not I were the one sleeping,

It took my foot and dragged it

and I awoke with such nerve I smelled the fart

of my own art.

artfact or fictionsurreal poetryperformance poetry
1

About the Creator

Oliver M

Poetry is my past, the future rolls for no one. I'd rather have her exorcise my past and to entertain as life goes by in this chaotic world.

If you like the works please a tip or pledge voluntary.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2023 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.