the road to Hell
is paved with good intentions.
I have wondered
about the path to madness.
Do they converge?
I sense, before sleep, in moments extended,
and just after waking, as well,
discreet conversations, both daft and demented,
disturbingly clear as a bell.
Inside the pink eyelids, the movies are playing,
just after the chatting is done.
The cunning creations are sometimes dismaying.
These slideshow dissolves, one by one.
Perhaps the withdrawal from drugs of my shame,
or the onset of early senility,
or a devious malady could be to blame
for the loss of a keen sensibility.
So I pray, as I battle, and inside I hide,
as I make a deep tunnel through snow,
digging for daylight and dearness denied.
(May I see, once again, ‘fore I go)
Lee Dunn has been writing since the age of 18, but found that work got in the way for the ensuing 48 years. In his home town of Toronto, Ontario, Canada, he reveled in his independence at an early age, and spent as much time as he could exploring the city’s Arts scene. He was introduced to poetry and prose by the works of two literary giants, namely J.R.R. Tolkien and J.W. Lennon and thence fell in love with the written word. His work includes poetry, short fiction, and personal essays, and ranges in theme from the surreal to the horrific, nostalgic, and themes on the human condition. He has been published on Spillwords.com, The Dark Poets Club, Journal of Undiscovered Poets, Crepe & Penn Literary magazine, and the Shelburne Free Press.