When I was six
Daddy held my tiny hand
He promised mine would stay silk
His hands were hard
From love
He walked with me
in the Tennessee mountains
While the Lady Slippers bloomed
Rare orchids
in pink and yellow
They grow wild here
He bent,
looking me in my pale eyes
And he said
"God of the mountains and wild things,
breathe,
make them dance,
for my little lady."
And they did

To dance alone in the dark
Drinking aged tears
Pretending mortality
Living on dreams
The wish of Cass's courage
And I've none
Blades call, no?
Mine's clean
The shine of it calls me
I'm alone
I don't wish to be
But really I do
Rain pours on my rubber roof
Is it pleasant,
to watch?
Violence is *******,
For the "normals"
and I'm not
Insanity,
my mother
Darkness,
my maker
Love,
Is insanity
Over and over we try
same patterns
same results
But all,
For LOVE
and the lie of it
And poetry
is my shining blade

who does not like the feeling
that we are all protected
by our guardian angels

however

as the ancient Greeks
    and after them
Benjamin Franklin & others
maintained

God helps those
who help themselves

If dreams were monkeys
They would swing on the vines
Over a landscape covered in moon

If dreams were dinosaurs
They would be prehysteria
And have two ton funny bones

If dreamsssssssssssssssssss. . .
Were continuous
They would be exclusive as TV on reruns

No one dreams small
No one dreams medium
Everyone is in on the "BIG"

But at the end of the day
All of our dreams are
the ice cream we forgot to put away