I have spoken of the Dreamer
As if we are one but though
This be true and I believe it is
He is also the many.  He is the
One and I am the one and the
Many are one-But I know this
As seen thru a glass darkly.
By my dreams sometimes I
Am aggrieved.  I have then
Only one remedy, one access
To the Dreamer I call it prayer
To offer up my pain, perplexity
Anxiety and need to Him who
Is able to give me better dreams
For myself and for everyone/

I am a sometimes sailor with many
Ports of call.  I am a dreamer and
I go where I go.  There  are only
Dreams on my itinerary- some
More vivid; some I like not at all
Some bright are not my type and
Some though dim are very rosey.

Between my voyages I know not
No thought and when I wake I
Have no idea where I've been or
If any time has passed.  I am dead.
Then I dream again waking from
The deepest sleep.  That's the way
It is.  Nothing lasts but the trip it-
Self.  I cannot count how many
Times I have died and rose again.
As the old woman said: You call
This living!  It is a sham.  To which
I reply a sham for you my darling
And most becoming.  She makes
No answer but I  I see the a twinkle
In her eye and that for me is good
Enough; Makes all the difference.

When alternate and mutually
Exclusive realities are constantly
Coincident in our mind it has the
Strange is it not  effect that the
This miracle comes to be seen as
Most normal and ordinary...

In the Mysterious Stranger Mark Twain
Said (paraphrase) Of the world he had
Seen the "dream marks" were apparent
To those ready to see them everywhere
Then he knew that that that the dream
Was his and he was the dreamer of it
Alone forever and that it would ever
Be up to him to dream better dreams.


It has been reported in a scientific
Journal that at Ypsilanti State, a
Mental hospital that there were
Two inmates that had identical
Delusions that they were Jesus
Christ.  So in the cause of science
Deciiide in much the same manner
As boy who throw the cat by the
Tail to see what will happen put
The two patients together in the
Same room.  They were waiting
To see if there would be a bang
And were surprised, disappointed
No doubt that nothing happened
Except that the men got along.
So at least at a mental hospital in
Michigan it seems possible for at
Least two crazy men to have the
Same dream neither claiming
Exclusive possession for himself/

Beauty is the timeless
Eternity called Love
Who is born again the
Angel or the sinner?
Why is history an aged
Crone?  Because it tells
Us to forget and we are
Always trying to keep
What it told us.   It is
Only for the ages and
The moment to be a
Singularity if God gives
Us to know that we are
His children always.

And that is why Boca
Raton is in Palm Beach;
And I can never get too
Big for my briches.

I Love You  Oh
Light in darkness
Beauty glimmers
Interior while all
About is shadow
Booming bursting
Hidden the girl I
Love.  This is but
The announcing
Fan fare of the child
Coming golden and
Pristine Promising
Out of Mourning
Stormy I love you
Promise of better
Days to come from
The loss in that city
By the Bay where
One must leave his
Heart to love again.

Our first love to the known being
Of the unknown Father that gives
Us the life that first perceives  light
Where I come to my being needy
Helpless with desires crying to be.
Be gratified hoping someone will
Hear that one is there for me, the
One we call Our Mother.  She is
Our first love that defines in its  
Origins and in its essence what
We mean by love, the deep and
Abiding Gratitude to that being
Kindness incarnate come to us in
Our need from the unknowable
Father of whom she is His word.

We   are the echoes of those Famous
Long ago.  We are the little people
But never little to ourselves.  Born
At the end of an age we were last but
First dying.  Dysfunctional.  The last
Breath to give voice mortal -crying for
Immortality.  Crying for immortality
Not for ourselves alone but for all of
The other little people who cried out
In elegy their meaning of being lost
Unheard were  still famous long ago.