Wicked Sandman

Faithful readers…
An original piece for you, drifting back into the more dark and dirty streams of my consciousness. I hope you like it.

On pipe cleaner legs the sandman comes creeping,
His battered top hat at an angle just so;
The pipe that he smokes with your dreams kept within,
Wicked and black, full of sin, don’t you know.

His suit from a tailor has seen better days,
The scarf at his neck hides the bruise from the noose;
He waits near the innocent drowning in sleep,
Ready to pounce and set dark pictures loose.

All manner of demons can be conjured at will,
With soft application of smoke while you rest;
The scent of his breath as he blows it across you,
Can bite at the lungs, coalesce on the chest.

As a dust covered angel he flits through the darkness,
From window to door of the good and the bad;
The nightmares he brings from his billowing smoke,
Are the kind that the devil himself might have had.

So lay yourself warily on your pillow at night,
Sleep with the light on and do all you can;
Hold yourself safe and be wary of creeping,
From the dark and unholy, wicked sandman.


7 Responses to Wicked Sandman

  1. You paint a vivid (and somewhat disturbing) picture – great writing!

    • Simon says:

      Thank you. My mind has some dark places that emerge every now and then like an old dinosaur carcass in the La Brea tar pits…

  2. I was thinking Tim Burton the whole time, a Jack figure tiptoeing through dreams. It flows really well and conjures very clear images. Don’t know if I fancy the tar pits for my dreamscape though…too much of a fearty for that. But then The Nightmare Before Christmas scares me too. Excellent job in portrayal.

  3. 1jaded1 says:

    Love this, Simon. Makes me want to say, “Sweet Dreams…bwahahahaha”.

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