I found a poem
it was packed away
in a box in an attic is where it lay
dormant in the dark
unable to say
the words he had written
his final day

the attic has light now
he heard the switch click
come to me come to me
hurry! be quick
I've waited for years
for ions to be read
then the sound of turning pages
danced in his head

he awaited the light when he heard paper turning
and the smile of a face would have his heart burning
closer and closer as the pages were freed
then stopped at the title and did not proceed
did not proceed but the eyes he could see
through the thin journal paper the eyes he could see
and the tears ran down cheeks of a child all but 3
Daddy, he said, 'Can you read this for me?'
'Perhaps you can read it some other day
when you're old enough to know just what it might say
Off now my child, we can't be all night
lay down the book and turn off the light

and from that day forward he waited for me
the child to return
and set the words free

the poet sleeps
and they appear
images so wondrous
as to bring a tear
they take his soul
and slow his heart
they fill his nights
with beauty apart
from all he knows
in his awakened state
and then they vanish
into the great
mystic

he awakens to his prosaic day
bits remain of what he cannot say
my most beautiful words
are dreamed away

Quick note: At some point I had written on a piece of scrap paper 'He is resolved to say his most beautiful words are dreamed away.' I found it today as I was packing to move and actually threw it out without reading. I was going back to get a sippy cup lid I had also tossed but later found the mate and decided to read what was on the piece of paper when I spotted it. I wasn't even sure if I had written it or read it, so I googled the phrase and didn't find it. I had also edited out two words at the beginning of the phrase which solidified it to me. The mystic was speaking to me
a little borrowing from Van Morrison 'Into the Mystic'
https://youtu.be/CEvsDuJYEnI

who's that on the grassy knoll
disappeared in a rabbit hole
what's that on the picket fence
puff of smoke it all makes sense
metal flyin' everywhere
we all know but they don't care
mauser was the toy they found
it don't match the killer's round
soldiers soldiers follow me
I'll tell you what you need to see
there's only one goal
only one mission
believe the lie
the Dulles Commission

the lie

I opened the desk to look at the only photo I have of you
the colors have faded
and the edges are charred
but I don't remember when or how
did I do that at some point in a drunken fit
perhaps to draw my gaze from your beauty
or to symbolize how I was burned
the nights are long here
retired and struggling to find life
trying not to wait for death
you were night and day
love and hate
truth and deception
and in our brief time together
I was more alive than ever before
or since

you haunt me

monsters, goblins, greys and trolls
slithering through my blanket folds
sweating bullets I awake in screams
twitchy, violent, sketchy dreams
they hide in darkness
they snicker and strut
the window creeks open
my eyes slowly shut

such an old man
I have become
they wear and they tear
like worms on a plum
please stay this night
as the Sun leaves they creep
just take my hand
when I twitch in my sleep

prompted by a very strange dream I recently had

how faint his final cry
how frail his last goodbye
plays on low as he drifts away
'song of the sandman lullabye'
he wraps himself in memories
he finds a dream and falls
the music on a constant loop
makes it's way down hollow halls

morning light now finds no breath
the pen's ink soon to dry
his final words
his quiet death

'song of the sandman lullabye'

here
at the bottom of the Sea
where the Sun doesn't reach
the water is coldest

here
even the spineless creatures stay away
I hold my breath
and swim through the darkness
the ghosts of shipwrecks
the faint cries of whales above
send echoes to the edge of death
and yet
here
is where I feel
alive

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