I had a dream last night
that I fell in love with a woman
I don’t remember having seen her before and
didn’t recognize her from my waking life
she had very bright red hair
and she was loud
I really liked her a lot
we traveled the world in minutes
and saw everything there was to see
we held hands and
embraced in the light of the illusory sun
our souls intertwined and
it all felt very real
I woke up a few times and
immediately forced myself back to sleep
so I could see her again
it was my dream and all but
I think she fell in love with me too
I heard once that
every person you meet in your dreams
is a face that you saw
at one point or another in waking life,
however brief or inconsequential it was
so I thought about it:
somewhere out there
somewhere in the world
there’s a beautiful young woman
with bright red hair—
maybe she’s loud—
who fell madly, deeply
in love with me
without ever knowing who I am
From the highest levels of the lowest hell,
Come to pull a man into,
A sense of security and peace,
Removing his life,
And his will to be alive,
Showing that not all demons,
Are born of some fell level of hell,
But can be spawned right here,
Upon the face of this verdant, green, Earth.
Demons born of Earth,
Where all real demons live.
Wanting to wander, discover afar,
affirms home is in needing you near me.
Anywhere you go
Anywhere you wander
If it takes a thousand cold winter
I will wait for you
Until you sigh on my shoulder....
Did you hear the news of the day?
That the middle east is unstable,
That America made a blunder,
That Europe is being destroyed from the inside,
That Russia is scary, with unknown intentions,
That China is full and becoming fuller,
That India has a sanitation issue,
Did you hear about the latest scandal?
Do you sit upon a high horse and judge the people in positions of power?
And that this world seems to fall apart,
At any state of society.
In this world full of deceit,
Where should they be headed now.
The crazy lovers in love forever,
Where should they be headed now?
The fires are always guarded,
By the watchful eyes of the world,
Those who wish to immolate,
Where should they go and burn?
Those which are hard to recite,
And those that are hard to veil,
Confess, oh poor lonely hearts,
Where should those poems go?