You betta recognize!
I lurk.
a leviathan under the surface,
battling with dreams
and limitations,
darkly, silently.
I lurk,
therefore, I am
Kraken.
massive,
fear-inspiring.
awesome,
horrifying.
I lay at the bottom
watching my bubbles
swim towards the grey surface
around the unfortunate.
mud from the river-bottom
sieves through my heart
and dries brown tile
upon the sunny corridors
of hope.
shaken by the fist
of my own excitement
I feel my lungs
fill with salt
left by the cataracts
of beautiful plants
breathing.
to hold all of you
for one moment
would be to watch it crumble
and cry like
a waning moon
doused in the ink of the ocean.
little boy,
tiptoe carefully
through the echoes
of the fallen mirror;
the leaves
will put it back together.
the stitch of a sewing machine
manufactures my poetry,
sleep baptizes
my worried face into peace.
the dances of dreams
drum my skin into rest,
slipping me between the teeth
of monsters who plague my visions,
færies who cover my ears with storms
to mask the whispering
of nothing.
I fall without recollection
through cell walls,
shrieking with my senses,
soundlessly touching stars
with the shadows
of my fingertips;
hurtling at frightful speeds,
awed by the size of it all.
broken,
reflecting the trees
at fractured angles
agonizingly compounded,
the spilled eyes of an insect
encrusted with river mud
cracked and dry with age.
window rattling monster,
go away.
I have no patience with your
fleshless screaming skull
plummeting meaningful to earth,
runnels of molten bone flayed
as streamers fly from a maypole.
gravel crunching beast,
leave me.
I am alone with my artifacts,
my talismans, my treasures and
think little of your rancorous immaturity.
I sleep upon your doorstep to dream,
shrieking names of blind polypous gods
shambling aimlessly in realms of ether.
I grope shudderingly for the covers
to pull over my too-sensitive ears.
rubbery night walker,
begone.
I am here to waste your time.
come: step into my world of castles,
Legos, action figures, Transformers, things
only found in active imaginations
caged in flesh, hair, and bone.
come. follow me through idle dreams.
I am here to waste your time.
I am here to slap you with lightning.
a candy bar you know you want to eat.
never let yourself never let your S-E-L-F.
I am here to tell you what I see.
I dream. I feel. I want to tell you:
waste your time; it’s yours to waste.
come,
I am here to waste your time.
startled, surprised: it’s fun!
it’s good, so sharp, like biting your tongue.
get drunk on it, spin it around,
waste your time or don’t then.
listen to it with the volume way up.
relax. I am here to let you play my Nintendo.
yes you can. you deserve it.
you can do what you want; run naked.
make a mess. run me over with a lawnmower.
give me a big kiss. eat all of those cookies.
I am here to help you
waste your time.
I want to stand naked on a rooftop in the lightning
like Shelley and tell the world that we are gods
and god is nothing, let me be
my own god, my own master. I am only
my own, naked, standing, hit by lightning,
drugged, dying, depressed, damned
but all this so I choose.
I will fall when the universe breaks
the subatomic clockwork monotone.
embracing the light, welcoming the darkness,
thinking to myself of Disneyland
to allay my fears of falling and falling down,
the cross behind you unsupportive,
catch me, Shelley, catch me, opium,
follow me, Byron, kill me, poetry.
my dreams are made from sand
as my flesh, as the mind is dimensioned.
the skull is an appropriate sieve
for the ashes, the ashes, the ashes
we all fall down. the wind turns circles
in the dust, draws the face of a clock with one hand.
drip castles; elephants; lightning again.
my cheek is pressed against the cold rainy windowpane.
I wish you a dinosaur and a penny
I wish you enchiladas and dolphins
I wish you love and chap stick
I wish you coconuts and grassy hills
I wish you an earring and pencil lead
I wish you whipped cream and blood
I wish you happiness and pen ink
I wish you a treehouse and Apple Jacks™
I wish you blue and green and orange
I wish you beer and Lemonheads™
I wish you dreams and brown leaves
I wish you words and squirt guns
I wish you chewing gum and piranhas
I wish you luck and three bird feathers
I wish you beef jerky and yo mama
I wish you would and brass
I wish you wings and belief
I wish you days and several candles
I wish you toenails and bobsleds
I wish you gold chains and thermostats
I wish you negligees and carpeting
I wish you a bag of marbles and bones
I wish you the stars and a flower
I wish you incense and Rolaids™
I wish you a Twix™ and a pipe wrench
I wish you courage and money
I wish you a huge slobbering puppy dog with a big tongue
I wish you Jello™ and time
I wish you wood grain and shivers
I wish you letters and Coca-Cola™
I wish you.
Oh, what can I do?
Ah, distracted again
as I leave quickly to the night
on my mind:
signs of you,
sleeping peacefully in dreams,
fears gone.
cheaper than anything,
even free
have and hold you forever
tears gone,
rarer than the blue magic moon
even you
grow thoughtful,
aching for someone you should have.
I grow somewhat sober.
Saddened jesters
never paint honesty:
tears, tears
over my bent wings,
fallen angels
plummet past sparrows.
fears, fears,
waking dreams;
dreams of
half-parted lips.
spilt milk from many things
ah, do you mean no?
oh, all my trust!
fears, fears
rarer than honesty;
even angels
grow sober,
cheaper than sparrows.
have to earn wings.
ah, can I say no?
tears, tears
as I gather my things;
even jesters,
sleeping dreams,
aching for kisses…
signs of…
oh, do I trust?
There once was a little boy
Who had dreams which danced behind his eyes
Of magic golden cities,
People merry under purple skies;
The trees and hills behind his house
Where the young boy used to play
Would welcome him joyously
Into their arms most every day.
The boy would lay for hours
Watching people living and dying
Delighted in the magic spent
To dream without even trying
But as the boy got older
His imagination began to soften
And out to the hills and trees
He wouldn’t come as often.
Plastic guns and army soldiers,
Matchbox Cars and other toys
Stole the love and keen attention
From the helpless little boy.
The sun set silent one day
Over the lonesome trees and hills
The happy boughs and glades
Wept and sadly stood still.
No one heard their hearts break,
No one knows how they cried,
But some dreams were lost somewhere in time
When the child in Michael died.
I ran and ran. Barefoot and naked from that
House I ran through alleyways I don’t remember
But in the scariest corners of opiate dreams.
The horror that grew and relentlessly
Followed me from that accursed house
Blacked out the stars in the midnight sky;
Ink spilling across the heavens. My
Feet flayed by flinders of stone, my
Breath ragged and acidic with smog,
The darkness roiling turbulent
Seemed welcome and horrifying.
Collapsing on the wet grass of the
Public park I shivered for the cold
And the anticipation of being
Filed away in another straitjacket.
Sleep
Dreams
White picket fences
Knights of the Round Table
Picturesque cottages
By a blooming pasture
With a lake some distance away
Away over a patchwork quilt
Of grass and poppies
And lilies and daffodils
And snapdragons and
Dandylions and petunias
And myriads of colored flowers
Like a living rainbow.
A silver-maned unicorn
Prances through the colorful sea
With an Elf princess on her back
Wading towards an unknown goal.
Shall she stoop to kiss a frog?
At the edge of the sparkling lake,
Unicorn as guardian, companion, friend
An entire land
Filled with knights and maidens
And emerald cities and Cheshire cats
And evil witches and giant beanstalks
Nottingham castles, Tom Sawyer’s clubhouse,
Sleeping beauties and handsome princes
A land whose boundaries are imagination
And not worldly restrictions and rules
Every land is different
Unique to that person
And this is what
Dreams
Are made of
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