Travelling through my Coma

And as I slip, sliding down this distant path
I still hear the voices, the tin pot radio

Worried, that I'll never smile again
never see that smile in return
from my pretty little poppy.
Darkness and light battle for dominance
like a moonlight cocktail
behind these fused eyelids
stumbling further back, away from the din.

Radio noise startles me,
I've heard that song before
taking flight, aiming for the moon
swinging on a star, those outside my mind
witnessing my sentimental journey.

The gypsy pulls me back
barks orders that arouses previous heartaches
when can I wake again?
Is soon enough for me?
Hells riders in the sky disagree.

They drop me into a desert,
a forest rushes to greet me
inscriptions carved on every tree
'goodnight Irene', the one nearest to me.

Feeling that loss, as my own
staring to the heavens
'How high the moon?' I ponder
then cry, kicking over a stone
which reads 'Vayacon Dios'
this forces a smile, pulled by harpies
little things mean a lot.

The forest explodes with colour
like a kaleidoscopic headache,
cherry pink and apple blossom white
yet as the birds fly, scattered by fear
attacked by hells canines, I cry loudly
'Don't be cruel' despite my lung busting pleas
the hound dogs continue their destructive cause
the forest and birds all shook up.

I lay and sleep within this coma
dreaming of the purple people eater
defeated during the battle of New Orleans
meeting you, for the first time, you told me
you were there from a summer place
my idyllic dream within a dream
soon to end with my tossin and turnin

I can't stop loving you, despite my flaws
that time in my sugar shack, now distant
I want to hold your hand, the satisfaction
of knowing we are one and the same
listening to the ballad of the green berets, again
hoping we live and die together,
I know I'm a believer, in us.

The jaws of hell are catching fast,
so many tulips, cut from glass, chiming in the breeze
a wind-chime of tortuous delight
a favourite song juxtaposed against the scenery
'hey jude' you call, we'll meet again
in the year 2525.

My only escape from this idle slumber
a pathway, built from this dream to the next
that bridge over troubled waters
to travel it would bring joy to the world
(or at least our world)
a tear escapes as I think back to
the first time I ever saw your face.

My love attempts CPR, to break the streak
of sleeping, as I drop down once more.
A sleep within a sleep, within a sleep.
Yes love will keep us together, should I wake
maybe tonight's the night,
this darkness will be broken
because you light up my life,
yet this night fever remains
for now....my Sharona.

Pleading with you to call me, through the din
our endless love shining a beacon,
through this landscape of ebony and ivory
every breath you take, gives me strength.
This drowned mind has a chance,
even when doves cry
together we are the world. I need you now
that's what friends are for.

Living on a prayer, is all we have left
as you are out there, alone
yet you roll with it, whispering in my ear
'miss you much' which echoes through each layer.
Painting such a vision of love, reminding me
everything I do, I do it for you.

This cannot be the end of the road
I will always love you, in my mind
the power to dream that I'll make love to you again
though surely just a fantasy, a fruitless ambition
(more chance of dancing the macarena
in this vegetated state.)

My hope is diminishing, like a candle in the wind
life grabs me by the hand, takes me back to that boy.
The boy is mine,
He looks and smiles at me, emotions running wildly
this choppy current that slowly subsides.
He whispers 'Maria, Maria'
I stammer, mumbling incoherently
'this is all for you'
I was foolish to dream, To try to be
'In Da club'

She comes through again, Yeah we belong together,
I want sexy back, your umbrella of love
guarding against the self doubt, when I'm low
I gotta feeling, you have always known
it would end this way.
Times ticking loudly, 'tick tock'
Yes we found love, you might call me, maybe...

through those blurred lines
of heaven and hell.
Of dreams and nightmares
happy, or desperately sad,
Uptown funk or down town carnage,
we were closer once,

the radio kicks back in, playing Despacito.
tunnelling down through dream, then dream then dream
that earworm travelling defiantly. Finding me.
when your love finds me
One day I may wake again.

*****

this poem is a bit on the long side because it contains 78 song titles.
These are the top selling songs for each year from 1940-2108 from the US billboard.