Creativity
I am relaxing
on my couch
In my Living
Room
My head is
wreathed in a blue smoky haze
A sweet pungent
odor fills the air
The stereo is
on
Playing rock ‘n
roll
I can see the
music
Coming from the
speakers
The beat of the
drums
Cause the haze
in the room
To swirl, dance
and cavort in time
I melt into the
couch
My body and my
mind succumbing to the hallucinogen
I enter a
dreamlike trance
Where reality
is distorted
And time has no
meaning
I am free from
my body
My mind floats
high upon a cloud
Wandering
aimlessly
To places I
never knew existed
Where thoughts
are fleeting
And strange
Never lingering
in my brain
For very long
I like to
pretend
I am more
creative
When I am
tripping
But am I
really?
Or is it just
an illusion.
© Phil Renaud 2015