In Dreams I Can

In Dreams I Can

I passed an entire night
Scratching
Scratching it out
A hen in the yard
I scratched, I scribbled
On floating books
Wall-sized canvases
Blank white expanses
Filled with my sagacious scrawl
My Pollack poem
This will explain everything, I said
The supreme expression of
Passion and fervor
Black and white gouges
Of despondence, of elation
All of it.
Perfect random chaos
To finally expose the soul

An entire night
My dream-self worked
A thrall of conception
Till morning roused me
I had to work fast
With every imagined scribble
Fresh in my head
Frantic with inspiration
I lifted my pen
But the light of day
Revealed nothing more than
A tangled web of lines
Knots of ink
Insanity's Garden of Verses
Damaging my page.

(c) Tasha Chinnock