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Dreaming Splendor

I can’t afford bed sheets or makeup.

Beautified dreams, somehow, still come easily.

Even in poverty, the luxury of abstraction

Soothes me daily, in depression or inspiration.

Streetlights on snowy nights

Hold more potential than money or connections.

Shadows in the urban landscape,

More real than set ideals or purchased thrills.

Somewhere is an inevitability

Waiting to be dreamed into vibrant shapes.

Magenta rain against black skies,

Sleeping bodies forgetting their encroaching doom.

I can’t afford bed sheets or makeup,

But in my mind, I repose against splendid fashionings.

The faintest glimmer of peace and satisfaction

Awakes, and gives me space to keep imagining.

Wolf Pup Dreams

Five wolf pups sleeping soundly,

Dreaming fantasies to dull their pains.

Every morning they woke to play

With new defenses in their brains.

They dreamed of screamed beratement,

Careless running through the trees,

Getting lost in friendless spaces,

Or simply flying away, free.

Fears and desires breed

The strangest images in wolf pup heads,

The seeds of future habits

They’ll follow, fight, and feed.

Meantime, another day for playing

Running on in spite of what they’ve seen.

 

Lay Awake

Stillness and restraint,

A body bound in ruffled sheets.

Living, but sedate,

Concerned only with its dreams.

Needful little wishes,

Faintly nibbling at perfection

For unresolved conflicts

Shrouding comfort in their impression.

Disassociate the brain,

In separation from the ache

Of toil’s jagged teeth

Dragging steadily while awake.

Restore and repair

The imbalances in the night.

Feeling and fantasy

Flowing inward, mind alight.

Purest completion,

Sheltered from the pangs of life.

Inverted creation,

Eyeless sockets stealing sight.

 

 

 

 

On The Ledge Again

Surrender myself to chasms deep,

At odds with mortal terror.

Survival instincts contradict

Material or internal needs.

Last year’s leaves encircling,

Burying me in a peaceful sleep

Until my head starts swirling

And I fly for ledges to leap.

River valleys with shallow water

And jagged rocks like teeth,

Attractive like the sudden spurt

Of shivering flesh in sweet relief.

Spread my placid, brittle wings

Against the pummeling of my heart.

The whispered words within my brain

Inhibiting my space to breathe.

Falling, laughing, painful happy tears,

Giving scars a chance to bleed.

Awoken from the fallen leaves

Asleep, again, perchance to dream.

Doors Of Discordia

The calmest moments

Are in the empty space

Beyond the wooden door

Hovering around us.

Every quiet breath

Draws it slightly closer,

Forever hanging over,

Until we stop.

Attractive, perhaps,

Although frightening.

Merely turn the handle,

Simplicity itself,

Though how abhorred

To be betrayed or forced

Through the other side

Against our will.

Whatever else

Could inspire such fear,

Fascination, anger, sadness,

And lust.

Tranquility or Hell,

Loves loved and lost,

Escape and imprisonment,

Falling,… Fallen,… Fall,…

 

 

 

Sleeping Spell

Weighted words whispering slyly,

Constantly prickling your psyche’s core.

Memories and worries trickling through

Like locusts burrowing in your thoughts.

Down deserted paths under dark canopies

Of weather-worn tangled boughs

Wander withering self-identities

Wishing to have been realized.

In ragged grown thickets deep

Between the spires of ancient trees

It sings its honied lament

Like woven shadows through the leaves.

Caught within their passive torment

The shadows of former selves hear

And like a drought of sweet relief

Their worrying whispers disappear.

Soft dulcet tones swaying

Like a breeze offering retreat,

Enticed into enchantment

The wandering mind further sinks.

Awake and unaware,

Walking steadily through a dream

Down deeper in the thickets

Where it salivates and sings.

Weightless words whisper softly

Lulling you into sleep.

 

 

 

Luna Under Ashes

I awoke,

Unsure of who I wanted to be.

Ashes fell from the overcast sky.

This happens every now and then.

I watch while making up my mind.

My possessions do little to assist,

Insufficient to help define.

My wandering thoughts distract,

Muddling every link I find.

A fluttering flake of ash

Descends and falls upon my eye.

I’m coated in the grayish dust

But still, I can’t decide.

I remember I was something,

But I know I don’t want that.

It lasted while I could,

But it isn’t where I’m at.

From gray to gray the sky revolves

And then from gray to black.

I’m shrouded in an ashen cloud,

Alive and inexact.

A vague idea still persists,

But it’s tangled up in doubt.

Endeavoring to fix the form

That’s tarnished in and out.

My restless mind has overstrained

And craves to leave me deep.

I’m swallowed under piles of dust,

Thus blanketed I sleep.

 

The tinkling sound of water

Streaming down

A silver fountain

Sweetly soothes

My troubled mind

Like smiles from precious friends.

I yawn and stretch

My brittle wings,

Glad of being found again.

Soaking in the pool,

The water crisp

And crystal clear,

I find I’m staring back

At my reflection unobscured.

“Love,” she said.

“You’re beautiful and

All that you should be.”

I close my eyes

And hold my breath,

Then plunge into the deep.