They weren't my dreams,
But they were chasing me all night long.
Swirling into my sleep like autumn leaves,
Opening up pages of perspective on subliminal screens.
Unusual and invented names strewn across my mental landscape,
Clever and odd conversations appearing from behind bookcases.
I don't have these kind of dreams,
Perhaps they've escaped from the internet?
"In pure mathematics infinity has no measureable fractions and recording its duration is pointless. We are present so that the future can become the past. The Universe is inside something really big, but we don't have to worry about that."
Yours Truly.
Welcome back Dr. C
I love this poem, quite a tribute to lit net
Best, H
Clueless
JB
Thanks Hawkman. Been way too busy with other stuff but it has come right now.Originally Posted by Hawkman
Welcome back Dr. C
I love this poem, quite a tribute to lit net
Best, H
"In pure mathematics infinity has no measureable fractions and recording its duration is pointless. We are present so that the future can become the past. The Universe is inside something really big, but we don't have to worry about that."
Yours Truly.
I like it. there are times when I stay online too late at night and when I go to bed my mind is a constant whirr of images. there are dreams and then there are dreams
Before sunlight can shine through a window, the blinds must be raised - American Proverb
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