[The following rêverie de rien was kindly shared with us by Happy Cow's good friend Simon Drew. When he is not busy staring at goats, Simon can be found starting up with upstarts, standing under understandings, roaming in the gloaming and running the online groups English Stuff and International Monthly Hatstand Day. If you have snapped out of your daydream, why not leave a comment at the bottom of this page? You can sign in to the comments widget using your Facebook or Google accounts, or just leave a message without signing in. Or just click on the 'Like' button instead. Enjoy!]
What dreams may reveal to you
walking through the dark tunnel of the night
ghosts and phantoms in the cracks
horrors lurk to left and right
A silver fish
a slimy toad
fairy footprints on the road
sparkles when the gloomings done
the cloud of when the dream begun
all the songs that were lefft unsung
steady your hand the moon is rising
and images of your own comprising
seek the passages there between
what was seeming and what unseemed.
Hold your breath
the eunuchs talk
all of this will come to nought
and in that empty petal shines
the possibilities of untime
forgetting does not have to rhyme
I'll take my vodka with a lime!
Passing shadows calling forms
all meek among the merry stalks
the chitter chatter of a pond
a reflection of which you grow overfond
leaning down into the water
the voices catch you unawares
and weary do you eyes go falling
a head buried under many cares
A speaking goose
a hangman's noose
two ruby dice
please add some ice!
A chuckle breaks the reverie
a booming voice free of vanity
"Come now, at what do you play?
Can't you see it shall soon be day?"
And once again you change the scene
your joystick moves to change the dream
the game unfolds in different lairs
a new set of paths
a new set of cares
and your bed you lie
believing that you can truly die
you believe the story that you made
so you could have joy
and too, be afraid
there is nothing to remember
and nothing is speaking now
it will tell you if you let it
if you love now and allow.
What's this?
All you thought was real
was merely an orange peel
and peeling back the orange flesh
you see the lights all spread out
like diamonds, and a mighty shout
never echoes
never ends
oh ghosts of night come ye may
but this time with you shall I play!
lets grab the toys dusty on the bench
dive into the tunnel despite the stench
swim every channel
climb every stair
you think of it and you are there!
oh shadows light and inbetween
pink, and yellow and golden green
even the sparkling latrine
a miracle, unseen, unseen,
now the eyes of heart have opened
and the mouth of heart has spoken
a face, all faces have been revealed
even though the tunnel's sealed
a chair is a place of majesty
with playthings dance such as these
the stars in a best friend's jest
the lump of meat beating in a chest
soles of feet on pebbles and rock
the laundry list and the missing sock
laughing into emptiness
there were no textbooks nor a test
just a million possibilities
of what could be you and what could be me
oh, take the pen and write your tale
leaping mice, or bread gone stale,
a million stars above the sail
a beach beyond the ocean pale
gallant knights and girlish horses
pin up girls and and Greek divorces
spaghetti stuck to your vest
catapults and treasure chests!
a day spent walking through fields
among the sheep and rocks and wind
a sun sitting on the hill
and smoke now drifting through the air
the sum of all that comes seeming
the caterpillars have done with dreaming
and there it is the open door
you know it welll, you've been there before
before the fore and aft were made
and afterwards in the cave
you were that door
you always knew
though dreams from your branches grew
and fell like flowers to the grass
'come what may, this too shall pass'
ah the voices you gave your dreams
yet still surprises were you host to there
the drifting flowers in your hair
the childhood of your lack of care
a sparkle, a glimmer you lay to earth
and from each starseed a universe was birthed.
"What if everything is an illusion and nothing exists? In that case, I definitely overpaid for my carpet." Woody Allen
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