Lacking in punctuation

When I may wander mid the clouds
that form when I think far too loud
disturbing thus my reverie
I see such sights no man should see.
Not dusty clouds to cobwebs wed
but glittering smoke, which once thin-spread
reveals to me the shining towers
of cities, beautiful, which house
the fairy nations that there dwell
quite ignorant of heaven or hell
who smile their days and dance their nights,
delight in causing strangers frights,
but best of all, enjoy such life
without the care or daily strife
one sends to plague us here on Earth
and make us doubt our very worth –
for hopelessness and sad despair
are products such as one grows here
and harvests gleefully – cuts down
rejoicing in our every frown
until our chins have reached the floor
– we no more see as once before
but bow our heads in misery
for what we are, we may not be.

Mother

A beacon in whom we all believe, shining there above and below us. Gentle calloused hands stirring the waters, the well. Fountain of my youth and mirror of my dotage.

Veins standing proud, swelled with age, pride, scientific mysticism… chemicals. Inscrutable lines mark the outward planes, invisible chasms mar the landscape within. Danger lurks there.

Inevitably we shall all succumb and return to what we always sought to find. Back to the womb. But the inner comfort and security of those walls has given way to an external terror.

And the prodigal becomes the fruitful. Plenty springs from what was barren desert, and the circle begins once more.

Keys to the kingdom

The inner world I know so well
Yet not at all, tho’ there I dwell
Has many paths, I skip or run,
Or crawl in terrors and in fun.
The sky can change from grey to green
And back again though I may dream.
This landscape meets my every need
Though horrors I may seek indeed.
I find therein, my peace, my all,
Yet nothing’s really there at all.
My kingdom fair in my mind’s eye
Can make me laugh and make me cry.
It heals me of my passing woe,
And changes my opinion, though
I rarely see, within those lands,
A single evidence of man.

Nightmares and daydreams

Inside my mind I dare not wander
Save for in the realm of slumber
Waking dreams are terrors real
And things I’d sooner never feel
I find within when dare I must
And venture forth before the dusk.

If you should ever find yourself
In daylight hours, beside yourself
Beware what beckons you with grin
And urges you to enter in
To what contains all manner of
Strange adventures, even love.

For what you meet inside your head
May drive you mad, or kill you dead.

Internal Landscapes

Try as I might, I cannot find
A better way to ease my mind.
The butterflies I chase through pasture
Do not die, but share my laughter.
Always summer, there’s no rain
I tumble down, but feel no pain.
I fall a thousand feet and swim
Up waterfalls, then dive back in.
I climb tall trees, and play at life,
It’s fun there and I’m no one’s wife.
Yes, who needs Prozac? Who indeed?
No pills could give me what I need.
This land I love, I always find
In time of need, within my mind.

And if you seek to share with me,
To ease your sorrow, misery?
You’re welcome stranger, come on in,
Enjoy this place of joyful din.
For peace and solitude in there
Are plentiful for all to share.