Poetry

Hey, I'm back! I have been working on a cool poem recently and I have the final version which I would like to share with you all.

Psychedelic Slumber

Gabe Maiberger

Resting in the living room chair,

something happens that’s completely rare.

The world starts to fade away,

like my mind is going far astray.

Deeper, darker and denser down,

I enter a world I consider profound.

My life flashes before my eyes,

and what I'm seeing is not a bunch of lies.

One, two, three and four,

deeper I go into this galore.

Four, three, two and one,

reality is back and this trance is done.

Though I don’t quite make it.

My eyes are darting rapidly,

greatly aroused with my mind paralyzing me.

No longer are my thoughts like single frames,

yet this experience is like a celebrity’s fame.

My thoughts now displaying in real time,

this psychedelic experience distorts my mind.

This trance I’m in, they call it REM,

no doubt about it it’s like a growing stem.

This metaphorical plant that they call dreaming,

is beyond euphoria magnificent and gleaming.

Yet as good as it is can be bad too,

horrifying and nightmarish it leaves me screaming.

When I wake back up in that living room chair,

the journey I took was nowhere but somewhere.

This somewhere is sleep, a time of rest, a place of serenity and a place to rest.

Waking up it now is morning,

the sun is shining and the day is adorning.

Bestowing it’s light in my eyes,

the dawn of a new day makes me rejoice with cries.

Though my cries aren’t nostalgia, mourning or unrest,

nor are they hatred, malign or molest.

What the truth is actually is quite reliving,

a night of slumber makes me believing.

That if dreaming does one plenty good,

why not dream more and benefit you it would.