midnight muse

nightmares are for sissies

nightmares in an afternoon siesta

relieving the drought on fancy rain

neither setting on the roof and the cloud

just burst out in laughter’s booze,

hoping, nay, saying, nay breathing

strong stones of flattened shoes

there are no offenses playing beneath

our shoulders, prancing, and dancing

on the soft floor of our amygdala

and snorts.... should deep heaving

be a way to unburden the thoughts

the you have neither given nor gave?

Or should a slap in my cold conscience

be a way to make deep sleep look like a

slumber in soft porno film fashioned 

like a piece of unknown being

unraveled in an unscheduled meeting

of our thoughts, yet again, trying

to reach our neurons and their flashing

of false impulses like shrouds of silence

in a boring yet timely canvas creating images

of murder and mayhem in paradise.

How should I look at this pestilence?

Does it really come from my inability

to judge the right from correct

or just the mistakes of errors are

not that plain and simple like

black and dark... or white and bright

the words are just a masquerade

of our fancy trying to beat a silent shout

in our heads in this deep slumber,

I may look at ghosts and make them

like gumballs in a sweaty palms

Or I may run after goblins and

make them squeak like mice on my

ankles trying to put a slow fire on

a fading snow while dining with

freakish elves that look like clowns on

a sleepy day trying to eerily tickle your fancy

out of boring slumber and uneasiness...

oh, I just forgot to yawn, and stretched

back because deep within the shadows

of these dreams are just the black of day

and the light of night gauging my eyes

to sleep and I honestly like to be with them in

a strong laughter and in poking jest

licking those fears like lollipops

of fiery coals strung together

in a thorny stem of roses and

birch trees hanging upside down

like bats sleeping soundly

in a flat bedroom cuddling the

bed bugs in stone velvets and

fiery snow.... and I will just laugh

at people who would be really scared

and scarred of this kind of sweet

nightmares staring at us in the

cold, yet unknown realm

at the back of our eyes