1.
sterile crowd walks out
cook offers to step in!
2.
sandy shores
silly dreams
hope and fear hold hands
tremulous.
3.
cloaked in tags
covered in labels
RIP-'em freakin' OFFA ME!
S T, 12 May 2013
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 5:47 AM UTC
1.
sterile crowd walks out
cook offers to step in!
2.
sandy shores
silly dreams
hope and fear hold hands
tremulous.
3.
cloaked in tags
covered in labels
RIP-'em freakin' OFFA ME!
S T, 12 May 2013
dream, dream, dream . . . really?
The coattails of the dream-weaver
up
tired
alone
drowsy
now I see
stand over me
hover above my eyes
wait and watch my lids fall
cast a silent spell of smoky tendrils
strut your presence deep in my psyche
piercing eyes sear the depths of chambers
along the edge of sleep, dance fanciful figures
almost tripping over their feet, in aching frenzy to find
that reach which cascades, dangles all along the lip of reason
all along the lip of reason, all along the lip of reason, the lip of reason
leaving the cusp of awareness, venture below this vague surface
fall airless over rim of closed awakeness, thoughts dying slow
cocooned on soft wisp of dreamy shores, I float
yonder hills beckon so gentle and pastoral
welcoming arms wave on sunny dale
seeming to envelop all fears
offer to swallow dark pain
dissolve mal aches
promise peace
echo love
ride joy
see u
hope
dip
until I get there . . .
(refracted dust)
sullen eyes greet my unopened eyes, yet I see all in my dream
all the answers come flooding; time-frame out of warp
you are just a dire apparition,
you tell me in my dream to stick out my tongue
and I freakin' do it, because I believe in your words
crash!
you drop a ten-pound hammer onto it.
no field of flowers saluting with merry faces
none of jolly smiles
just a knife-wielder, vicious in intent . . .
waiting on nervous springs, for my next move
chasing . . . a fugitive in my own blasted dream
oh heavens, when then is relief?
thus
such vain bidding adieu to impervious dreams.
**** u, dream-weaver!
what a hopeless battle to hold onto the coattails of the dream-weaver
lose my grasp and slide off
slip away
burn AWAKE, cold sweat like fat beads the only proof of the onslaught of a ride with you . . . and the journey's reward?
oh, I can't remember . . .
oh!
and . . . sweet dreams to you, dream-weaver
I'll come visit you tonight . . . in your dreams!
