Tag Archives: dreaming

Dandelion dreaming

I dreamed I was a dandelion
brilliantly green
crowned in golden plume
spring wind gently pushing
in nameless merriment
often spoken by seed summer lifted
and floated among bees and errant wasp.
Soon seasons tilted hours through days
rains kissed face lifted
and soon I changed;
naked, frightened and bare
a weed, stranger amongst
buttercups and grasses.
Then as if nature waited for despair’s
long embrace
hope rose out in feathers of white
I became many
holding fast to the body of age
until wind came again
a gentle lover to wisp away
me, as many, into her arms
spread into the world of the living
little hopes with
wings unbendingly light
searching soft earth to bare myself again.
Waking, sun touched my face.
Pillow soft beneath my head
wind at the sill calling my view;
a dandelion seed caught against the
screen of my human abode.
Sliding pane against givens
I plucked it and set it to the air
softly.
It traversed on roads I could not see
And wondered I this:
was I seeing myself
or was my soul seeing me.

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On Writing

Breath is word is breath
to not write what I am
is to stop breathing
Dream is flow is dream
to not spit who I am
is to stop dreaming
Paper is skin is paper
No paper nor keys to write
and I will use the sky
Breath is word is breath
Dream is flow is dream
Paper is skin is paper

Writing is life is poetry

Evan’s Reprieve

He twists

shifts and sifts

through sheets

newly laundered

as if he is swimming

in a sea of solitude

comfort and relief;

today is Saturday.

today is

saturday.

The only day

left unmolested

by the comings and goings

of school yard antics

sideshow panics

where his face is

made up as

beautiful as his

lineage has imposed.

Where every girl he

knows throws

and throttles to be

the hand upon his knee

the

one wearing his letter

fetter and ring

because he is

king,

of nothing.

He twists more

realizing the mental

images

the soulful onslaught

of wearing an unwanted

crown

is creeping into his world

and it is Saturday!

Sifting tighter.

Stop

door bell.

What now?!

Evan…. EVan

EVAN! Come down!

And so the play begins

the drop down

dive and bend

to the will of the

money makers and

game gang bangers

of his ‘sophisticated’ life

Meet Mr. CEO

and his queen

meet the paster and

his dreams

we gave money to

the church and the

charity

our boy will be

known be

seen

and all he

really wants is to be

back in bed

because it is

Saturday.

But here they come

the Duke and his wife

with dutchess in tow

because the wheels of

torture must continue to

pull tug and tow

his line into the future

but its not

his future

its not his

 

because it is Saturday

he longs to sneak off to the waters

edge

to dip his toes into the sound of

nothing

and dream of warmer hands

and a life he will never have

because all he hears is

expectation

the drive and motivation

the grandchildren he will

be making

the woman he must bed

because he must wed

his life to the vices of his

father

and be the ‘Man’

and they will sing

great is the king

but damn it

it is Saturday

Evan isn’t listening

he is out of his mind

he is running out of time

the court is adjourning

and he is turning into

the very thing he hates

the Football jock instead

of the boy who sings

the Frat man on campus

instead of with the man

on campus

…. and it seems

hopeless

to know all this

as he stares out the window

and dreams

Saturday

is a reprieve…

unless you

are the son

of a king.