Eyes Wide Asleep

Eyes Wide Asleep

A Poem by Butch Decatoria

Eyes Wide Asleep

 

When these days of ours given

mathematical geniuses astrological beasts'

likenesses - to predict a year's character,

which this moment is burdened with

upcoming supposed hardships

 

like oxen upon the growing fields

(though that animal has known nothing

but to tend its fruition of fertile soil)

we focus with worries interpreted to toil

upon dreading portents from paper place-mats

 

at East-Met-West dives, eatery-cafe-chinois-cheap

"Which animal falls on your birth year?"

Entertained for a few minutes' read

then emotions in currents associate

horned Two-Thousand-Nine with End Times

 

Leaving stuffed with after-taste of distractions

day-planner thoughts sifting preparation

and possible aftermath birthdays to come...?

Eyes half-minding the drive home

on interstates turn into a hybrid drone

 

blank face unflinching - a pondering on doom

wondering how soon?

 

When our days intersect and collide with each other

almost to the point of not noticing or fugued

Deja Vu - Hindsight blind

because we are engrossed in our daily grinds

disappointments, disillusioned in disbelief

 

where did that indistructable kid

with mischievous imagination go to sleep?

where did youth misplace its charmed slipper, flee?

Left it behind chasing after Midnight:

dragging and pulling pumpkin seeds with them, mice

 

hoping for another ballroom

dance with regal dream come-true,

a future prince choosing you - having endured

being good even in chimney soot

and life cat-naps at our desks

 

employment heavy on our weary flesh & mind

fantasy consumed at lunch in an hour's time

forgetting and ignoring traffic

signs - bright stars or skylines,

eyes wide asleep in living, in sunshine

 

When our days become half awake

still wide asleep - our vision not quite seeing

how HD crisp beauty slows on dew

or love of life - in radio tunes imbue

days will fly like circus knives

 

on spinning victim sideshow act

knowing the truth is matter of fact

no better time to live than to feel your moment:

a drop of rain in your hand

 

now wake and be

where you stand...

 

 

 

 

 

 

© 2009 Butch Decatoria


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Added on January 22, 2009
Last Updated on January 22, 2009

Author

Butch Decatoria
Butch Decatoria

Las Vegas, NV



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