poets
be spoken
collaborate and piece
together the broken

poets
be spoken
let the rhymes
write their own lines

expansion for words
in these infiltrated minds
maybe poets if
you be out spoken

we won't be left
hoping for a literary
revolution

poets; be spoken.

In your ship of
white sheets
you set the sail
you leave the shorelines
of consciousness
and begin to drift
from the docks of reality.

First you cast your fantasies
then your visions
in hypnagogic imagery
cast you
as you wait for the winds
to take you
into the currents of unconscious seas.

what do you see?
what do you experience?

Those living memories
of
other places
other times
other lives
a string of faces
a hotel with many rooms
and no exit signs
and
as you open doors
on different floors
you find
yourself
at different ages
on different stages
familiar terrors
sometimes vivid
make you shutter
falling into
quicksands of blood.

On the roof of this sea
you take flight
and are free
when you hit the heights
you're in your car
with a stranger and me
we give you directions
and
at each turn progressively lost
panic sets in
late for work and can't find the way
your GPS
keeps pointing to the fact you're here.

Small craft warnings come and go
the lighthouse beckons you back home
to the shoreline and the dock
but first you crawl into the
arms of the sexist soul
you know
as your finger tips touch
this night's
journey is done
as
your alarm
sings out
The Four Seasons.

Headlong to the shore you ride
your breath is taken away
you throw your rope to the dock
of reality
and have that moment
of longing and wonder
when dreams can be life
and
life can be dreams.

A big sigh.

You've bought your ticket
for
tomorrow night's voyage
where it will go
you just don't know
but
when you get there please let us know.

You get out of that
cozy warm white sheet ship
and
put on clothes
with the sunrise
and
the half cut moon
your traveling companions
into
your awakening.