Dream Stuff

It came to me.
as most strokes of genus come,
as dream stuff,
on a hyperactive run.

Creation, invention, brightens
total absorption, intense white feelings
and the grateful numb.
Evolved, a new development is come.

My moods have swung,
not disorganized nor psychotic stunned,
rather logically ordered
from number one, to controlled end of run.

You have to feel and act of self creation thus,
to understand/experience those of us,
who stand in front of everything that's known
creating futures in the far untouched.

by Joseph M. Donatelli

Other poems of JOSEPH M. DONATELLI (2)

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