Graveyard Shift Nightdreams

So many days begin, or finally mend
Judged enough as an end.
Caught,
Like some poor flat fishy flounder,
Floundering about,
Late for destiny’s date,
Due at half past eight
On the table for somebody’ else’s dinner.

Just another day.
Just another song
Somebody might sing
To help them get along
The long and winding road,
With others dancing to and frolicking fro,
But I, somewhere In the in-between
Of this time or that.

Dog or cat, royalty or rat,
Captured in the semi-darkness
Of an ambient psychedelic day glow night
Suited to introspection,
Shining inward this night,
Captured for posterity:
Night in day-glow
Expells surreal stills snapped in life.


Does the greatest value of a human
Exist in his mind, his being, his soul,
More prominently, more honest and truly,
When naked of sociological sneers,
During the sleep or wake cycle?


At any rate, my days are nights to others,
And to others my nights are days,
So I admit to some backward ways.

I love the quiet of the early morn,
The 3:21 am birdsong wafts back and forth,
Sauntering through seasonally stiffened leaves,
Restless leaves.

All those conscious of it ensuing
A restless retreat, leaving now,
Falling further along down their path,
The chosen path home.
Almost like others’ paths
From earth to sky to earth,
Leaving other old gold seasons behind.

When this ends to begin anew,
I dread that spark of day,
Marking another section
Of my allotted earth-bound stay.
.
Nevertheless, "they" say,
"Happiness is where you find it."

At times I'm swimming in delight,
And if I can remember that,
That happiness can continue
Just as often, long, and hard
As an African diamond or
Chunk of Mexican clay,
In this, and any other, just another day.