Dreaming Reality

In the world I dream
houses are made of cards,
attics are full of light
and new sleek things;
confused spiders moved out 
onto the blue sky,
to meticulously waive their webs there,
day and night.

Up-side-down hangs the sun, 
like a big orange
in psychedelic evening sky;
for the amusement of public
spewing  to the ground
toxic rainbow
of misconceptions
and elaborate lies.

Words, like chameleons
what they will never be, pretend
changing colours and shades:
Freedom wears chains of slaves
white is black, hate means love,
and Mars is raging mad
for he loves peace 
more than life.

Invisible elephants
crowding living-rooms
snuggling on sofas,
eating plastic popcorn 
mesmerized, watching soap on TV
- an integral bliss
of unconscious life
of a happy family.

* * *
Late at night, when I discard
this heavy cloak of insanity,
reading old books with real in them words
I travel, daydreaming, to such a world,
as once I was told, exists:
Where love means love,
truth is true,
and peace brings peace.