Sunday, July 15, 2012

dreams, not so important


Heavy grey dreams 
started my journey
of sleep when I
had nothing in my
mind to sweep

Shy outpourings  
waved at brink
pleaded me to 
rethink before I
allowed the flow
of my ink 

I assured them 
with a blink
Its nothing but 
a life's strong drink

It asks me to link
with the rest of
the universe with
a sound knowledge
that I may 
someday sink 

At a far distant
corner of this earth
someone sees 
dreams of pink 

Dreams float
in the air when
we're asleep
Their interaction
with each other
may bring colors,
I think

Last night,
I stood at the highest
peak pleading a lady
to stitch some cushions
lately, she refused
leaving me confused

What I was doing 
with stitches n' threads
those colorful spreads
when I ought to be 
on plains to get 
mended those 
broken window panes?

Dreams can take one
anywhere when the 
need is to just sleep
and wake up early
to perform fair

Dreams, after all
are dreams,
providing material
for poetic themes
In my case,
they badly fail


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