At hand, the midnight
hour.
Please. All join in silence
for the marriage of thought and dream.
Yes. That is good— retire
the soft pulsation of our mind.
Let go. Submerge.
Yes. Calm and exotic.
That sea has yet to be sailed;
trained navigators are baffled.
The lighthouse on the horizon
where the sea meets night.
Beyond its expanse, no man
has ever dreamed its journey.
Stories of tropical forest, lost
roads that slip into nowhere.
The stories lied.
I am thrown, an urgent thrust
Into a dark ghost town.
The high school principal,
police chief, mayor, governor drip
with dark crusting blood
on the floor of the court house
before the judge, His Honor
who sleeps upon cluttered desk
of documents and dried puke.
Parents lay
In white walled cemetery
Buried in beds,
braindead.
This is hell. Get me out of here,
back to the midnight
hour.
I don’t want to see the future.
_____________________________________________________________________
My Dream
_____________________________________________________________________
My Dream
Gravity’s weight hammers my head,
face melts into pools of sweat and skin.
My watch has hands but no numbers.
Where am I?
Portly Hawaiian girls dance
two headed men run wild towering
red flowers ooze shit in my eye
a pigeon blossoms
into Tyrannosaurus Rex;
A great white
Swallows the dancers.
Green dogs run to the shore,
marble trees eclipse
the surging sea.
Stop this madness.
A wolf howls.
A calm buzz.
A steady neon shadow.
It is his shadow,
the mad host.
He welcomes me with open arms
into the future,
witness to the pain.
I slip into the eternal pasture.
The host, cloaked in unearthly rags
strips down,
a brilliant glow burns
my eyes.
_____________________________________________________________________________
The Sun
_________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________
The Sun
It always rises
From its distant chamber;
it shines love
into weary weather beaten souls.
Golden light streams
pours down;
lazy clouds
treetops
chirping birds.
The earth receives its light,
reaction, reflection
gentle erection
red heat knives
stab at his skin.
The sun
calls you to the dance
to sing, laugh and play;
draws the strained gaze
outward; entices
brain-cramped students
suffering in class.
The sun seems to speak:
“Look beyond the window
children and bask in my warmth.”
Boys and girls in summer clothes
rocking out with radios.
A student dreams.
A sunset’s slow yawn
the hot horizon stirs,
bubbles in cauldron mind.
The smooth sand
foaming tide
fused
browning toes.
Romance beckons;
tongue falls upon lip;
He pants to run.
His thoughts exit
dreary gray
security monitored door.
Drink Wild Irish Rose
with friends
and lie upon the shore, slurping
giggling, getting drunk
on vapors of Atlantic Ocean ;
cool breeze slaps
twists
coils
Around them
like lovers hair;
a pouting wave
puckers
against goose-bumped chest
like an erotic girl
licking her mouth.
He sings, Down by the Seaside
words echo in the blue
liquefied sky, “way down
by the Oceanside."
Sun baked pretties
dripping wet
polished chrome thighs;
they dance
alone.
The sun
calls you to the dance.
It seems to speak:
“Look beyond the window
children and bask in my warmth.”
Sunlight never stays
long on the dirty window.
How he had loved
it’s sharp shooting rays
soft angelic light
for only seconds
__________________________________________________________________________
Inside skull
island
gentle lake
floats at rest.
Adventurer promise
dreams come true;
streaks of red, white and
wine in the tender sand.
__________________________________________________________________________
The glaring two faces, Supervisor
my back burns
the work bell sends us to the time clock.
Landscaping crew croons.
Unkempt clothes and wild hair annoy
“Here’s yer shovel up yer ass.”
Terrible season.
I reregistered
into high school.
___________________________________________________________________
The nude jungle girls wet
with sweat and play on vines
mocking Venus Fly Traps, tangled
fused bodies that seduce,
pull on the suspenders
in hearts of lost boys.
______________________________________________________________________
He sits on the moist earth.
Meats roast in the fire.
Waterfalls sculptured
rock beds and river smacks the bank.
Basket-clouds picnic in the sky;
bottles of crimson wine
spill over
mountain tops.
He takes her and they roll in tent,
and drink, sleep and roll again.
He rests on the moist earth.
A storm creeps across the night;
rain claws his face, sweeping
eastern winds bite
barking thunder reverberates
lightning rips the heavy sky.
Clothes cling like disease.
Camping gear soaked useless.
He gives up and falls into tent
And drinks and rolls and sleeps
All through the storm so peaceful
he forgets about everything.
Seed
within womb.
Sing, sing, sing
Dreaming child buds
like a chrysanthemum.
Ring, ring, ring
A child enters
the world of men.
Sting, sting, sting
Young man gaze, confused
backwards glance.
Infant fox
along giggling brook.
Unbroken eggs rest
in quiet nest.
A patient rabbit
in the long grass.
He sits
beside his tent
laughing,
living, realizing
a dream from which to build,
a log cabin of his own.
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