deepundergroundpoetry.com
Stream of Unconsciousness
It's no proper thing for a man
To suffer mentation too mild
When he might ponder a planet span
Searching for notions born to be wild
Among the jungles of metaphor
On Miracle-Gro banks of a stream
With myriad vine and leaf to explore
Through frondescent trails of a dream...
Meandering through all our thoughts
Which come and go all day and night
Like intermittent forget-me-nots
Under a wayward honeybee flight
Hoping to find, like pollen in heaps,
A fancy as fine as those when he sleeps.
To suffer mentation too mild
When he might ponder a planet span
Searching for notions born to be wild
Among the jungles of metaphor
On Miracle-Gro banks of a stream
With myriad vine and leaf to explore
Through frondescent trails of a dream...
Meandering through all our thoughts
Which come and go all day and night
Like intermittent forget-me-nots
Under a wayward honeybee flight
Hoping to find, like pollen in heaps,
A fancy as fine as those when he sleeps.
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