you know, this thing that didn’t happen
anywhere but my head, seemed real
I remember everything about it
conversation, colours, the amazing food
all the personal touches
every sensation, but smell
I thought nothing of it until I was asked to leave
as I said, it seemed real
but without a scent of the place
without that, I knew something was wrong
I thought I could smell a rat
busyness, routines and demands
Is it possible
to call back and reshape dreams
based on harsh home truths?
Our thoughts held tight
are shaped by Time
round as round, square as square
so bounded by this gravity
we sense all this is quite real
can we feel anything
change without divine intervention?
our settled ways become unsettled
minds so fixed they become unhinged
n.b. Just asking. How difficult is this, seeing outside our heads malarkey?
I turn to a painting seen yesterday to tackle today’s prompt.
‘Our heads are round so that we can change our minds’ is the title of an artwork by Francis Picabia.
I find his creativity stimulating. His willingness to take on new ideas inspirational, if at times nigh impossible to practise myself.
“None of this is real”
She said, but I replied, “See?
It is. We are here”