Travel Dream (new edit 2)

[Lizzie]

[b]TRAVEL DREAM (edit 2)
[/b]

A television prison lights the living room -- can you omit "living"
with the flicker of a nature show on mute. -- "with the flicker of nature on mute" (?)
Body shackled by sofa cushions 
and drifting down a stream of dreams.

The voiceless tone of quiet comes. -- I would choose between either voiceless or tone. Or, actually, I'd like "the voice of quiet comes."
“Qu,” the wind blows.
In the middle “I” am floating.
The water murmurs, “e,” around me.
Tree branches tap the “t.”
I stretch my arms and legs,
—left foot in N. America,
right foot in S. America,
left arm in Europe,
right arm in Africa,
summersault into Asia,
flip up and land in Australia—
a little dirt from every land dusted on my face,
my sweat in every country,
my piss in every ocean,
my shitting foods of every people. -- I can see that you've revised this line a couple of times, and it's still not working for me. Somehow it seems like you're shitting in peoples' food, which I know you're not, but that's the image that comes to me and it's unpleasant. I think you might have to lose the "my" and do "I'm." Or you could do: my shit on every continent. 
Canada, Chile, Siberia, Outback, Sahara.
In hundreds of languages, thousands of sounds,
one word repeats.

Quiet comes and goes 
to alarm clock buzz dream break.  
Awake. -- I like the move to more jarring sonics.
Turn off muted television science show, -- I don't think you need both television and show. Also, I don't think that television moves well into science. Maybe "turn off muted TV science", omitting the show? This would also be a good place to interject another sentence that would contrast with the longing in the last line.
body longing for the moon.


TRAVEL DREAM (edit 1)

A television prison lights the living room. 
I'm shackled by the sofa cushions watching nature 
shows on mute. 

Adrift upon a stream of sleep,
the voiceless tone of quiet comes.
“Qu,” the wind blows.
In the middle “I” am floating.
The water murmurs, “e,” around me.
Tree branches tap the “t.”
I stretch my arms and legs,
—left foot in N. America,
right foot in S. America,
left arm in Europe,
right arm in Africa,
summersault into Asia,
flip up and land in Australia—
a little dirt from every land dusted on my face,
my sweat in every country,
my piss in every ocean,
my shit of foods of every people.
Canada, Chile, Siberia, Outback, Sahara.
In hundreds of languages, thousands of sounds,
no matter where I listened, the meaning never changed.


Then back into the quiet,
awaking to a science show,
television muted,
longing for the moon.




TRAVEL DREAM 

Television prison lights the living room,
the shackles of the sofa,
a nature show on mute,
 
drifting away into sleep,
quiet current,
the only sound, the voiceless tone of quiet.
The wind blows ‘qw.’
‘I’ am in the middle.
The ‘e’ is the water beside me.
The ‘t’ is the tap of tree branches.
I stretch my arms and legs,
--left foot in N. America,
right foot in S. America,
left arm in Europe,
right arm in Africa,
summersault into Asia,
flip up and land in Australia—
a little dirt from every land dusted on my face,
sweat in every country,
piss in every ocean,
shit the food of every people,
Siberia, Sahara,
Chile, Canada,
to finally shout an answer
to calling global corners,
but only finding quiet,
then longing for the moon,
 
then waking to a science show,
television muted.  

I think it's getting better each time. Good job!