It's too early to bark, I told my dog
The neighbors are sleeping, like a log
Let's not wake them up, for a little while yet
They like to sleep in, or did you forget

Sleeping in is a challenge, for some, but not all
I like to rise early to see that new ball
Colors of the morning are often, grandiose
If you sleep in you miss it, and I need that first dose

Brian Hill - 2019 # 186

I just read the first page
of James Joyce’s ‘novel’
Finnegan’s Wake;
Joyce makes up new words
and uses so many new words
that I could not comprehend
what Joyce had written.

Should authors make effort
to use words
which their audience
can understand?

Brushstrokes pave the way for a convincing actor
In the most penniless circumstances
I cannot convince people to appreciate my art
It's absolution that brings me to the beginning
A feeling of apprehension of not believing that the world
Only convincing the actor in me to make the choice of dreaming
In this reality where I can live in an opulent dream
Still, I'd rather be stuck somewhere among partially awoke people
While I'm the only one knowing my role
And I must not tell this as I cannot convince people to appreciate my art
Which is simply a daydream

Sorta like my detector for love
I guess this is how I really know if I’m into someone
First I start to feel off
The days begin to fade into each other
I don’t know where one starts and begins
I sleep off the confusion only to
Wake up
More lost.
I don’t feel adequate enough for someone
To love me
I’ll give you my all
Rip my heart out
Blood over your hands
Take whatever you want
But I don’t know if I’ll ever get it back

everyday?
really!  Yes.  
choiceless.
I'm tired.
I'm sore.  
I don't want to.
Show up.
Be present,
do your best,
breathe,
wake up,
practice
and
life moves
through you
in the most
extraordinary
ways

in waking nightmare
she screams while awake

the color
of her eyes
bleeds out
with her tears

~for Cathy Leff, curator~


no bugler blaring ‘pay attention’ to me,
no emergent bad news bearish telephone cell call of an absurd tonal,
no alarm clock retaliating agin a humans daily defying double-slap,
no young children sneaking in, with a guard dog in accompaniment,
   joy-ending a deep parental sleep from the exhaustion they induced

but as if shot, the humans burst into alertness,
from prone to moan, they instantly revert, becoming **** Erectus,
gasping from shock troop dreams, and a chest-pounding message,
a whisper growing, an ever increasing crescendo, an unnatural law,

an unsullied foot-stomping battle cry that self-terrorizes, undeniable:

write me, your poem, write me now!

ah, it must be 5:00 am...