Dreamer


As I lay amongst sweat drenched sheets
Staring at the solemn shadows on my ceiling
Unable to move, my legs broken
I envision a sea of leering gleams
So dreary and unseen
And we
As dark it seems
Bright stars in the sky
While the universe dies
But still we’re held high
Ever falling, entwined
Shelled from the blustery, unwinding seams
Held within my conscious dream
I turn on the light and walk out of the room

As I stare at my self in the sheen
Breathing in sporadic spasms at the sink
In my eyes, an almost believable disbelief
Nearly collapsing with each new breath
I know not my own blood
My passion for you has weakened me
Sapped my physical energy
Forever I’m trapped, but eternally free
My own eyes, a river
A whirlpool, the sea,
An earthrent galleon, the flood
A deep black hole in the dark
A shipwrecked city, the flood
An inhumane dosage of love
I turn on the light to see

I have covered myself in the sodden filth of the truth
Wash off my skin, and suppress my dream
Wash you from my thoughts, and become mendaciously clean

Question those thoughts that
pop into your head uninvited,

shattering the silence.

Random revelations while
walking, reading or driving,

shocking zaps to the back
of your head like bullets
from a book bin building,
cleaving your skull,
exposing your brain.

Question them all…..

Are they directives from above?
From deep inside your ghost?
Your soul? Where do they come from?

Study the darkness of your pupils in a mirror.

Look deep and long.

The answer is in the hollow.

I have heard it said that the saddest songs are the most beautiful
and I have been drunk in the truth of these words.

Magnificent highs from dark verse, cruel electric addiction
euphoric bliss and shivering waves of arm hair *******
spawned from subtle cymbals and bruising bass.

this new addiction is a beast
and affliction is inevitable
once the luster is lost,

and its always lost,

longing replaced with needs never satiated.

but still I try,

there's a hole in my heart as big as the sky
its filled up with ice then songs make me cry

I’m just a tweeker
in search of a musical high

My heart is like a cavern of large familiar rooms,
with many more dark and unexplored beneath them.
To venture forth and see what lies beneath
is mostly painful, its hard to go without a push,

a life event, a heartbreak or such.
It is then I am launched through tiny crevices
searching for the way back to familiar,
further from the surface yet closer to the center
or beyond, to deeper, darker, thinner tunnels
leading to Hell; or China.

It is not the surfacing in China that bothers me,
at least I know I'd walk on solid ground,
instead I worry about weakened walls,
hollow spaces from digging and searching
collapsing into nothingness,
falling into emptiness,

a freefall in utter darkness for eternity
with no sound except the sound of hell approaching.

“Nella’s back” the town folk scream.
No one’s sure if it’s real or dream.
Even old Nella has her doubts.
She sees what reality is all about.
    
Nella’s back, it’s good to see.
She’s on the road to recovery.
Her bottled heart is almost free.
Pouring out as it grows,
watching as the water flows.

Rhyme and reason, wasted season,
nature goes to court for treason.
Flooded cities, crowded mind,
countless dying, life’s a grind.

She won’t know and I don’t care,
let the people stop and stare.
This I’ll always grin and bare.
Nella’s back, and here to stay,
at least to see another day.

The pain of fear is an
everlasting torment...
To shun the vast unknown,
or waste your time alone...
Confused with life,
and scared of death’s
eternal presence…
Fear remains embedded
among those people,
who do nothing but
live within their sins...