Geometric Dreaming
Unending lines, vast voids, shapes
meddle with my mind
and ghost an odd geometry,
the same that sometimes
twitch when a sudden waking
decapitates a dream.
Time dilates or shrinks
to a tiny dot pulling all
into its orbit then ruptures
into a rainbow, each strand
of color winding tighter
and tighter around my head.
It's the sense
of not being able to fit back
into the space where I belong,
when I become either too small
or too big or somehow
utterly change in shape.
Such disorientation lingers,
never quite forming into a coherent
thought but floats the boundaries
like a mist clouding
the fevered brain of a child who,
emerging from hallucination,
cannot give form to the terror.
A part of me remains there
held in the thick webs of a dream,
at times breaking through the surface
of sleep into where my waking mind
holds me, fearful,
frothed in the real.
Note.
This poem takes “geometric nightmares
and/or dreams” as its subject. I have had
these most of my life and what I once thought to be rare are apparently experienced by many.
The poem probably won't make much sense without having a little knowledge
of the phenomenon. Almost impossible to
describe the dream experience in words
and the residual distortions that linger
after waking.
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