Friday, June 17, 2011

Pocket for dreams

** Pocket for Dreams **
Talking dreams on a breakfast table
Folding into a pocket of my mind
As stumble out into the cold
Sleep a fog around my head
Saying sad farewell to a warm bed
Train can't be seen down the tracks
Platform is tundra bleak
Another monday morning start
To another working week
Jostle for a standing place on rocking train
All the seats already full again
Commuters around me have faces set
No charity and many regrets
Don't get out of line
On a monday there is no time
Stench of alcohol on someone's breath
Bags larger than a camping set
No space little air and no joy
Train stops and let's more in
Imagination can only get so far
When holding onto a safety bar
Eventually journey is done
Break out of carriage into a place devoid of sun
Clouds heavy mask the sky
Rain lashing hides tears of frustration cry
A meeting in five minutes
Work lapping over edge of desk
Phone message light is blinking
Whatever was I thinking
As I left my bed this morning
Another Monday to endure
No saintly rest for innocent or pure
The whips are out and drums beat
Every corporate soul to the oars
Moving colossus of a business
In a direction hopefully forward
Lunch is bites stolen at desk
Keyboard earns a scattering of crumbs
Everywhere around there is stress
No order only business process mess
Keep swimming across the divide
Only got to make it till five
Eventually after herculean toils
The clock announces all time spent
Workload on desk looks unchanged
Return journey again with strangers
On a train likely to be delayed
Has been that kind of day
Dinner will be overcooked
Television will promptly die
Have read all shelves of books
Iron will best shirt fry
Eventually surrender to this day
Give up on another Monday
Turn your weary head to bed
Set alarm for morning you dread
Close your eyes and try and escape
Dreams Hitchcockian reflect your fate
Until you wake from them
Unable to tell where day start and dream end
Breakfast table your moment of relief
Before day's claws are at your seat
Pull out again from mind's pocket
The dreams you sketch to form
An escape from Mondays perpetual
A relief from corporations asexual
Knowing even as you do plan
You are living life in everything you do
So the keenest sight to dreams must apply
To make up for these many days and years
In servitude to other needs
You with heavy heart allow to die.

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