scribbler
Apr 13, 2018
This poem is part of the workshop:

UNFINISHED WORKS

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ARE WE ASLEEP? (unfinished works shop)

Sometimes at night when sleep won't come
and eyes burn red from lack of rest
in small hours I almost feel numb
as heart beats tired in my old chest.

Is it imagination that I see,
this chair, these walls, even this pen,
all of what's surrounding me
and things to which I must attend?

Or, perhaps it being night
all of this is just a dream
which will end at dawn's first light
when the fogs rise up like steam.

But if our lives are only dreams
then are our dreams actually life
seen through slits of sleepy seams
slits as sharp as any knife ?

About This Poem

Last Few Words: Hmmm..... So it seems that my intended direction for this poem might help others who attempt its completion. Although I'm going to tell you my intended direction this should NOT be the only direction considered. I meant to show the difficulty in determining which is reality, sleeping world of dreams or the waking world. Also wanted to demonstrate what it would be like if the dream world wound up being reality.

Style/Type: Structured: Western

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: South Carolina, United States, USA

Favorite Poets: Frost

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Comments

Geezer

very much! This is not your usual proffering. My only criticism is that I think the third line would do better if the words almost and feel should change places. I think the flow would improve. ~ Gee.
.

T

It seems to me you must give some reason why you feel this is unfinished, for the reader to have a competent input.

T

Because this poem intrigues me I have come back again. If i am out of line please let me know.

Sometimes at night when sleep won't come
and eyes burn red from lack of rest,
in small hours I almost feel numb
as heart beats tired in my old chest.

Is it all real what now I see
this chair, these walls, even this pen,
this physical surrounding me;
or things to which I must attend?

Perhaps because I’m in the night
all things I know is just a dream
and when at dawn I see first light
they fade before the sun’s new beam

But if our lives are only dreams
then are our dreams actually life
and is the real not what it seems
but just the dress and not the wife

Sparrow

Sometimes sleep won't come (edit)
eyes burn red from lack of rest (edit)
in small hours I almost feel numb
as heart beats tire in my old chest. (edit)

Is it all real these things I see (edit)
this chair, these walls, even this pen,
this physical state surrounding me; (edit)
or things to which I must attend?

Perhaps because I’m in the night
all things I know are just a dream (edit)
when dawn comes I see first light
glowing before the sun’s new beam

But if our lives are only dreams
then can we reach for actually life(edit)
then is the real, not what it seems (edit)
to see the dress and not the wife (edit)

Or so it seems!!

Stan I feel though you are great at writing in this one the tenses are being mixed up, just needs to all be at one time space. I have edited the poem but the actual words I will leave up to you.
When we Edit it appears that we are writing as we would and that feels so wrong.
I hope your op goes OK I look forward to you actually walking with us among the Aspens and the hills that surround you,
Yours as always Ian..

S

I went through some of my unfinished stuff to get this one. And I posted it raw off its original page without any editing. So now you see how a lot of my stuff looks when first put to page lol. Bet you're glad I edit most stuff between page and comp. .........stan PS surgery is a week from Monday. Not looking forward to having leg essentially cut in two at the knee then having two implants put in..

Sparrow

Hope my comments were of use, as we have to wait for others to catch up I thought I would have a look at this one.
Was it OK the things I changed, but only as I would do so as I write differently the original must be yours.
Yours as always, Ian..

S

All ideas are welcome. Even thought the ideas might not be used word for word they may well open up another window into possible directions......stan

weirdelf

Or Are a butterfly dreaming he is the Chinese philosopher?

Or worse, have you strayed from the path of wisdom by dissecting the butterfly to find its beauty?

A not so gentle hint, life is real, dreams are dreams but we can forgiven for wishing otherwise cos life often hurts.

Is there an ending there?