Dreaming in City Lights

I dream of you underneath the starry rural skies
And I can’t wait to dream with you ‘neath the bright city lights

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, the faint of the heart is the vision of blood on a love's dart:-/

mine to love
like a broken bottle of wine trickling from above
mine to lose
the death of leaves with an odor to choose

nerve visions times of sadness
like books left unread and ghosts of madness
the radio silences the alone
the heart of blood grew a heart of bone

speaks in gazes
like a reach of hands before a car crash embraces
stares in orange roses
the lost up space the past dream exposes

all too well prefer rivers not seas
like when the window winds shuffled with car keys
green grass shades and shields
the depressing autumn can be the golorious of all fields

bestest trees of lights in luminaire
like the colors of stolen Augusts and the Jupiter
before the shot of a wounded summer
the listen of violens and the heard bird hummer

now empty lines on empty pages
like a no remember of the highlights of the faces
with the drawn pencil a smoking scent evoked
expressions painted in coffee and lost letters in the cold  


                                                        ­    -------ravenfeels

DEAR ENPAL PEOPLE, a poem to the dark;-?>

worn out faces
empty starks from deepest embraces
once called on together
never true alone even better

neon lights
blame them on the lonely nights
in advance
I get the train traffic another chance

elevated the chills
things that can't be drowned upon stupid pills
done with healing
now the skin put to the pealing

set red to the lies
gazes speak in dresses fancy to die
time scattered on the desk slow motion
in a black marker all clear devotion

eternal freeze
when the upside embraced the back some disease
contagious when escaped
cant **** even when baked


                                                                                ----ravenfeels

What do you drink to get the purple out of my tongue? What do you take to forget? The picture
of white lady on the mirror chanting ****** mary. The video of being spanked. The layout of the patterns. It is all made into a trail. Wishing to cloak, I thought it worked but it was only a blanket. The blinking lights of the window.  It manages to ***** me and remind me of competition in traffic. The list. Lists. Numbered. Keep scrolling. Will it affect my life?

Needing to fit the box of a ten-year old, I sleep. Then, I post. That was not myself. How did this whole page about me belongs to someone else? I never drift before. Why, I wonder. Here comes the businesses. The banquets. Watching a flute get Tarzan'd by a piece of rope hanged across the room. Out of the blue, I found myself touring with a foreigner. What does he want from me? Is it wrong to think this way? He only asked me where I live and how I am. I stop. I feel the chills burning through my hands to fingers. The bones get cold, but do not when plugged by nerves.

I-I'm addicted? I need to sleep more. It's healthy, they say. It's fun.


When was the last time I had fun?


The more I see the light, the more I hate it. I bring the shutters down. Relaxing. Freeing. Pink flower keep falling. Peach flower keep shimmering. How come I never thought of it before? Now back to sleep. Wait, I can't sleep anymore. But everything's so festive. Are the photos not alive? But they frequently chatter. To me. And you---no me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Branded into these pixels of prizes and sporks full of dramatic dressings. What is meaning again? I kick the blanket out of the bed. I threw my pillows on the other side. It's hot. Everything's so hot. My air conditoner is on max---what's happening?? No, sleep!

It does not take long for me to gasp for air. I keep denying it but it is always in the back of my mind.

The only answer is to get out.

I try by slowly lifting my legs and down to the floor. Do I really? Now? This is the only answer. I repeat thrice. I'm getting old.

A wind caresses my cheek. I forgot I was even in a house.

Dream's over.