We stretch what is real
Until it fits the way we feel
If we don’t think it’s right
We’ll let it soak overnight
Where dreams of our wishes
Are full of strange dishes
Then, in the morning we awake
To find reality can’t be faked
So, it’s back to the top we go
We’re artists, didn’t you know?
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Nice 😉
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love this!
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Your poem invites reflection on how reality interacts with our dreams. Taking reality as something stable and dreams as something fleeting, our goal should be to adjust our dreams and desires to be in harmony with reality. I guess that is very hard for artists to do.
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Beautiful and shocking at the same time!
>
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Lovely!
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I wonder how the cone of the Giant Sequoia tastes?
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Ah the familiar road of an idea, finding its way to surface and put a smile on our face. 😀 It sounds awfully like my creative brainstorming. Well versed Elan. 😀
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It needs a bit of sugar.
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Hmm…your breakfast cereal looks more appetizing than mine was…
Nice pic, great composition!
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Everyone who ‘thinks’; instead of blindly obeying is an ‘artist’.
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“We stretch what is real
Until it fits the way we feel”
The first two lines got me hooked from the start! This was short and simple yet poignant and I enjoyed it very much.
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I have to send this to my artist friend love it
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Deep very deep. I’ve been moved both by the visual effect and the ink and paper.
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I really like the concept
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Brilliant Elan, brilliant.
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Superbly done, like a mirrors image.
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Nice poem!
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wonderful words and pic….
the waking up and whimsy – and artists – of course.
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Beautiful words!
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Yes, artists that manage creative digestion in luei of cracked teeth ~
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hunger & creativity go spoon in mouth 🙂
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Scrumptious! 😎🥀
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Whimsical and lovely. Creative breakfast bowl.
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“We’ll let it soak over night”, awesome! I’m having conifer cones for breakfast from now on. heh. Check out my latest if you would be so kind … need a writer as accomplished as you are to look it over. ~cheers~ 3y3wonder.wordpress.com
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Concise and thought provoking. I especially like,
“We stretch what is real
Until it fits the way we feel.”
Truth be told – poetically.
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I like your poem (the cereal metaphor for dreams is imaginative), but I love the photo even more. Where did you gather the pine cones?
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I found them at a park near where I live. I live within a temperate rain forest area, so pine cones are everywhere. These particular ones are still bit cold and wet. They open up wider when warm and dry. I wanted them to be in between open and closed. Thanks for asking.
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Kind of right about the immersion. Words snap crackle and pop despite the fact that sometimes you just want a damn quiet breakfast. Ah, but no, throw down the spoon,and you’re driven to grab a pen. I like the quirkiness here. Thanks.
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