Doctor Sleep
Your Doctor Sleep has company of me
His lost relativity to be relevant of time now lost history
Best if he keeps count of me his biggest regret
Language unspoken but I see in ancient dialect
Shall we dance of tongue in conversed remedy
His trauma restraints be my orderly afternoon tea
Prescriptions already written to medicate
To be or not to see that I dictate lines to dilate
His personal space now becomes my open place
Release your grip on mental walls to partake of three versed sign
What do Grandmothers sing as I take prayers away from mind?
Christian songs that make Pennywise dance beneath our bed
Does his head move in jagged lines while the body remains of lead
Is he inflating balloons to block ears of all those naughty words we said
What guilt lay within illusions of progressive ideology
Jury duty of children judge the guilty to our enemy without apology
Designed inner child little warren lost in burrows minding characture
Befell this feeble guide merely a tourist in depths of his traumatic inhabitor
Memories deep in buried tragedy shall be displays of his self saboteur
Crimes of denial putting ourself on trial seems all so elementary
Inner-city demonic decree walking Manchester by sea
Incognito apparitions show of his self defeat
Remove the title and reveal to me your suit be just skin deep
Incantation violations every first thought I retort in responsive beat
Step to me at the edge of sea the cliffs we pledge to let go our sinking feet
Deviate his emotional cognitive soliloquy to float with me on sleeping tranquillity
Institutions we graduate with honours to fear awarded our lifetime mentalities
Windows we check before bed always seem open in sleepless fear
No respite for our Doctor, his life coursing offline with no wheel to hold or steer
Binding to pain holding childhood in hands of his favourite Teddy Bear
Building repositories to deposit his depravation chamber of memories
Recode the misappropriation of painted portraits to art as life’s treasury
Sleeping swings of axes like burning candles of metronomes
Keeping count in lovely gardens of gargantuan gnomes
Doctor Heart be so smart his life be pruning those overgrown frequency tones
Life as a house born from dorm room wars to be of recognised awards
The good Doctor the University fame of Science halls
Laboratory lavatory his old mates lab coat still hanging on furthest back door stall
Ears pierced of whiskered cat fine tuned view of cascading spectrograph waterfalls
I impersonate the good Doctors interpersonal spiralling post traumatic fractures
Personality constructs held to projector slides profile restyled captures
Distortions of two in stereo view does Doctor now see through
Ceremonial climax in mind cycling the Apostles of oceans blue
Minds interstellar artist our burning life of Nova thrown to canvas
Arsonist of self harmonious mannerisms be this ladder Jacob climbed praying to his mantis
Wide awake to imitate mortality as personalities invading personal space
Killing time passing minds camped of antlers in the Hamptons
Baiting his safe space tying restraints laced with self tantrums
Hugs himself in death rolls wearing his straight jacket thanking the Moyle of lawyer
Breaking emergency glass for sanity masks as trauma comes in form of his Tom Sawyer
No deep states shall wake our creation dreamscape
Should fate break your chains may rain waste their great escape
My carousel spins every cognition of your wall art machination
Shall we close minds to compartmentalise conscious imagination
Fear of the unknown creates anxious moments to re-conjure
Rise to me that ever repeating melody memory of your first patient non responder
Stay to play in my keep of night terror where we bleed our dreams to the hollow
Camber chambers like church organs holding Sunday morning of all your sorrow
Are we losing our best in thoughtful streams of our pristine Harley Quinn
Dressing dolls on turning poles in fear to evolve long term mannequins
Our Doctor Jekyll stands trial as judgement presides
Opposing council to leading with scandals that externalise his Mr Hyde
Moral monuments seen on time display in open caskets of his Frankenstein
Down in my keep still Doctor Sleep?
What voices speak as we think of all we teach
Those classrooms of mental hell my wells of telling Men we sold their holding cell
Beds laid weary heads of Faye for those maids played still priced of tags to sell
Counting sheep turns cost counting of sacrifices that pay our salary
Habitual inhibitions shown in extroverted open exhibitions of my hanging gallery
No deeper goes keeping secrets we hide under hats in gift shops without a phone
Where no human mental wellness truly resets the time we left that befell homes
Follow the shadows that echo my moving soul down the old road
No faces to men of Windsor found down the old Priory tree toad
Truth of ladders as snakes wraps this tree of apricots shaped like a pear
Prized Mare the auctions fare we did take chair on evenings that weighed measured beyond tare
Don’t hide from me in your mind mazes that I can remake in dark places
Find that cheese before we circle back on our detective retraces
Time wants but never needs of just one friend
For you and I exist always in blank spaces of the pendulum
Majesty of inner galaxies be purpose by design
See those launched satellites orbit the conscious mind
Always vacancies here in memorised lines to hide his Mr Hyde
Merchants of mannerisms these behaving gentiles of old style
Writing observational humour to dear death newsletters his universe of Gomer Pyle
Thanking Dr Jekyll for his hospitable contributions to another small step on the path for mankind
Don’t let time hand you a placebo pill for all us who stood by that pool
Mistakes of tidiness over tardiness ever the obsession of becoming fools
Tell me Doctor do they still pinch at the nerve in the unbearable silence of night
Long drives avoiding life in reflections of oncoming headlights
Lights that fly like fireflies in his rear view of life gone by
Father to the calmers of his self harming mind
Finding moments on phones that disowned all that lost time
An old laugh that replaced cold draft once gave his heaven sight
Now it returns as we learn clowns bring a smile on a favoured tie
Never truly do they leave how they take form of newborns with smile
Back seats kicking feet those glowing eyes that loved of child
Code that writes life with style never profiled of families during trial
Life to love is life well done no need to decompile
No value can one assign each minute of passing time
If all we love gave the world in one final hug would we know then of wasted minutes in such crime
All my seasons to reason of just one dream so I may see such scenes played of life
Waking the mind for what be hiding in wardrobes dressing that darker side
Mirrors so vane I truly this day did see myself once died
Man the greatest fool to be his fame of wisdom founded on personal pride
The actuality of mortality is our morality on trial in styles that exemplify their Mr Hyde
