Last night, as I dozed, I had a dream,
But what would a dream be but a bitter gleam-
of a thought-cycle loop, a mash then release,
a randomized chemical silence and ease.
A mosaic I saw, and color so vividly,
Open eyes til they're raw,
glass glitter, fire-light-beam,
Such ruby such gold, such massive green lights,
shards of turquois untold, a mass of glass flight.
I feel as though my poetry shows up just jumbled and shit. I WOULD simplify it just for the sake of comprehention but hey that's the art of poetry, having your own perspective and understandings of it, even if it's far from what i really meant.