I'm going through a quiet patch
the voices have lost their urgency
turning to annoying whispers
sometimes they give me a line
and I ignore it, try to remember
then regret not writing it down
it's almost nice, the quiet
I still have the urge, but not
the spark to carry it out
like an old dog that lies
on the step in the sun dreaming
that once he could've herded sheep
but it's beyond him now
so dreaming is all he has left
but the sun is warm on his back
and there's always tomorrow

Gently, I wake from your side.

I love your serene face on the pillow,

The soft, fluttering eyelashes on cheeks,

The strong, resting hands tucked underneath.

But I won’t kiss you, or touch you for

I don’t wish to disturb your dreaming,

So, I watch, and I smile up at the light.

It happens every morning, this feeling,

and I think just isn’t she the sweetest human?

Sometimes a butterfly ***** its wings
and elsewhere someone gets wobbly knees,
because he is just about falling in love with anything.
He’s on the verge of tears and on the brink of bliss.
Now this could be a monk dreaming about transformation.
If so, I guess, he ate too many sticky sweets last night.
But the story goes further: At the very same moment
the butterfly leaves the flower and surrenders to the wind –
flabbergasted, the universe holds its breath:
Are its wings strong enough for the invisible force?
There, the monk wakes up with wobbly knees.
How courageous, one must admit.
And all of a sudden the monk has butterflies in his stomach.
Things get mixed up here, he thinks, and he tries
to fall asleep again – but (un)fortunately he can‘t.

I still remember that sad day, it was May 24, 2013;
the last time I saw you with the body that so thin.
You looked so weak and your eyes were scared.
You held my hand softly- I wasn't prepared.

I hated the way you suffered a lot.
But I've witnessed how you bravely fought.
It has been more than a year,
but what happened are still clear.

Oh hundreds of days are passing by,
You know I love you that my heart can't say goodbye.
Though now I know you're in the best place,
I still miss the moment when we don't have space.

Last night I saw you- in my dream.
You were wearing green and your smile gleamed.
I ran so fast and hugged you tightly.
I knew to myself that I miss you so badly.

I guess it God's way of saying, you are in peace,
and dreaming of you is saying, my love for you won't cease.
Seeing you in my dream is good enough,
believing that you're with the Lord is more than enough.


*-Steph Dionisio, October 15, 2014

It was only one day

Only one day
One day

All day
All over again

Replayed
In my head
Unedited

In technicolor full surround
I am found lying on the frozen ground

Lying about where I am
Lying about lying about

Only for a moment did it last
And how I tried to make it last

And here I am again
Again

Wondering where the hell I've been
If that moment really means
What it seemed to me to be
And how my mind it tends to dream
I pray that it and I might see that we
Have been wasting electricity
Chasing after faceless nameless queens

Now I am mad and losing sleep
No matter how or which I write or read
These words they fail to feed

And though this day won't end
I will continue to pretend
That whatever I decide whilst dreaming
No matter how secret or misleading
Holds some special meaning

So I can smile
And finish eating

And do it all again

For once, my head had nothing to say.
like a regular at a local pub,
if I ask for my "usual",
the result is my brain offering
a flood of it's cyclical thoughts
all clamoring to be heard at once.
But this time,
there was only silence.

It feels like I’m dreaming,
the atmosphere thinner than I remember,
while still trying to remind myself of reality
and I'm hoping to god
that the cliches concerning
the fleeting nature of life
maybe hold some kind of truth.

Every time there’s an upswing,
and my stomach hops up into my chest
because I’ve finally reached my pay-off,
something knocks me back
and clips chains that tether me to stability.
all the donations
all the condolences
all the "support"
don’t mean a ******* thing
if they don’t give me back my peace of mind -
and I'm scared that nothing ever will.

Crafty Waters lured the Captain
To the middle and the deep.
in the height of the hurricane,
It proceeded to speak.

"What do i matter to the birds
who exist between sky and tree?
These fish swim in my currents,
yet are unaware of me.
But for you, oh captain,
I'm everything you need me to be!
You have your ship, and your men,
and your lives at my mercy.
Today you will learn
you can't control the sea."

The dastardly Waters led him to believe,
In exchange for his life,
his crew would survive,
brief cessation from the culling winds,
and unabiding tides.
The captain decided then and there
To make the sacrificial dive.
But before he made a splash,
the hurricane came back  
and claimed his crew.
A Sage Seagull swooped down
saying," dear Captain,
those Sneaky Waters lied to you."

The trusting captain stranded,
his ship capsized,
despair in his voice,
to the clever gull he cries.
"stoic grey winged beast,
with blackened,beady eyes,
what difference does it make to you,
if a captain dies?"

The apathetic gull got close
and in a whisper replies-
"we'll trade words for fish one day,
now, repeat as I say."
The captain certain it won't help,
but he spoke them, anyway.

"Proud Waters don't you gloat!
boast about how big you pretend to be.
your power buys our fear,
turning men into memories.
But my life holds your story!
I'll tell it, if you set me free.
Am I drowning in you...
or are you drowning in me?"

Returned home.
the Captain captured fish
for the seagull to eat.
And from his lips told a story
of his time out at sea.

Still new ships think they will prevail.
Distant from diminutive land,
sailors set sail dreaming of the safety
of a mundane harbor.
Unaware of the schemes
between the Shifty Seagull

and those Maniacal Waters.

-

I don't need you anymore,
you're not worth fighting for.
Cut the noose loose from my neck,
and take back everything that is left.
I'm a mess,
****, I'm a wreck.
Do I care?
Do I dare try to survive?
After everything that has happened in my life?

You left, no trace.
Didn't even care about my sunken in face.
Long nights drinking, all day dreaming.
Oh ****, there's nothing to believe in.

Cold nights, all day in hell.
But it doesn't compare to the way that I felt.
Hollow bones, hollow-er heart.
Can you blame me for wanting to go back to the start?

Do you remember me?
I am fed up, strung on night
And closed in by time.
When I dine with dearest
Friends there is always a place
Set for you, there is always
A story, untold to them,
But not for strangers
Who know even without saying
What you never said to me.
My eyes are cracked dams
Above the flood plains,
My heart is dented brass,
Bent, out of gear and turns,
Mournful, dried, pocked
As rust, tarnished red,
Petrified.
If I look at the diamond moon
I am hooked.
When the flower brushes my calves
The lifting scent caresses, teases,
Rising with my memory of fire and stone.
If I travel to the balm Paris
Of the southern hemisphere
La Belle Époque is wearing your
Dress, the pampas fires and undulates
Like your hair, the Polaris star
Points at me, dreaming
Of you, dreaming,
My jewel, my,
Little moon.

Pining for a love that never was,
I listen to the crooning voices of jazz.
Boy, you made me tumble, you made me fall,
I lay at night dreaming of lips that never met.

Pining for you, I'm sad and lonely,
This are the autumn's blues of such life.

The orange leaves outside fall,
my rain in autumn.
The wind howls through the night,
forlorn whispers of your name.

I'm pining for you,
you who made me tumble, who made me fall,
I'm a leave on the winds of autumn,
Boy, I'm howling for you tonight.

Have you ever stood,
craning your neck to look up into the canopy
of the ancient kauri, Tane Mahuta,
while peace and birdsong permeate your soul?

Have you ever felt
the crusty spray and the satanic whiff
as the Pohutu geyser shoots aloft
while a dozen languages bubble through te reo?

Have you ever shivered
in the receding darkness,
standing in the china-white sand as you waited
for the first sunrise over Makorori Beach?

Have you ever sat
on the summit of Mt Taranaki
and eaten a well-deserved sandwich
while cows grazed far below on the lush, volcanic-rich pasture?

Have you ever experienced
that mixture of fear and awe
as an orca’s dorsal breached beside your too-fragile kayak
in the shining waters of the Abel Tasman?

Have you ever paused
atop a ski run on Coronet Peak
and reflected on the reflections
of sunlight dancing on snow and water?

Have you ever felt sorry
for tourism chiefs and advertising creatives
trapped in offices in the Auckland CBD
dreaming up “100% Pure” and “Clean and Green”?

How could anyone fall for someone so broken.
So emotionally unwound and desolate.
I don't understand how anyone could find
Someone like that, so attractive.
In many circumstances I've found myself to be
Rather repulsive  actually.
I would advise you to run in the opposite
Direction, but I would be even more miserable..
Maybe someday this could turn out to be easier,
Eventually, when i put my pieces back together.
Until then I hope I don't tear your heart to pieces,
The way mine has been strewn..
As I lay here, dreaming of how things
Could have been, should have been.. If I wasn't
Always in the wrong place at the wrong time,
Maybe then my life would make sense..however
I can't go back, no matter how many times I
Wish for it.. I just have to learn to deal with the
Consequences of someone else's actions..
How terrible of a thing to deal with.
It's hard to wake up knowing your life will never
Be "normal" again like the others.. But you have to
Deal, and that's what hurts the most..
Thinking "no one understands me" or would
Ever want to live your life.. Someday maybe that
Can be forgotten and and pushed behind a closed
Door.. Doubtful but maybe, in a perfect world..
Not my world..

I saw her in school
And I had this strange feeling
She seemed so freaking cool
Like she gave my life a meaning

We never talked
Just said hello
And then away we walked
My heart used to go all Jell-O

And then one day she talked to me
It was an amazing feeling
She opened up and chatted with me
It felt like I was dreaming

She was very weird
And I fell for her
Her name across my brain smeared
I couldn't help but stutter

She was pretty
And she thought a lot
She was witty
And I couldn't  stare not

She could make my day
With just her smiles
I wish we could go all the way
Together a hundred miles

But alas it all was just fake
We could never have been a 'thing'
Never would I see that wedding cake
Nor that beautiful ring.

Shadows follow me into my dreaming
mind. My love, with his face ever beaming
is turned in my dreams to a skeletal
curse, His spirit slagged as hot metal
looks. The sunlight glows black streaked with red
And falls like cold ash, covering my bed.
Chasing me, haunting me the shadows prey
on my subconscious, driving me away
From the comfort of day, the world of light.
Deep into darkness, their world is the night.
Struggling, racing, like swimming through tar
I pull myself up and see from afar
Light in the tunnel, but in fear I quake,
For I realize, I'll never fully wake

Looking down from over their bodies - I count them.
My split mind at once rejoices in and recoils from that counting.
Peering back over my shoulder I make
dark associations.
It’s as if I was afraid of becoming lost
the way the bodies made a trail like bread crumbs,
leading back from the places I had been.
I walk with the Holy Light.
I walk with my dark companion.
I walk between the spines of the body shrikes.
They harvest all my crumbs and remind me I am lost.
They hook the bodies high from spikes
so I look up to make the body count.
I can see the Holy Script
but I can’t seem to find the way.
Red and gold beacons in the dream,
flickering off and on like syncopated declarations
as if saying:
Here I am
Here I am
Here I am.
All elbows and knees I slip between the webs of the
orb weavers and the cactus spines of the butcher birds
while they count the bodies for me:
Here they are
Here they are
Here they are.
Hang-dog and hard of breathing  I have my medicine.
I’m hanging from the sleeping cliffs over
hell’s half acre and the high deserts.
I remember my brother flying me to California on a great olive branch.
He fed me sushi and smiled while he watched by brain heal.
But I was coming for the bodies.
My count was smaller then, but it was high enough for him
and his hands were the keepers of the flame.
The fire there was exiled and quietly he laid it by.
My brother spread out over the carpet of time like
the faithful departed with the weavers and the shrikes and
mounted bodies in the sky.
A child appears before me on the walk - eyes like a baby deer.
His mother is two blocks behind, so he asks three questions while he waits:
Why are you smoking?
Where are your hands?
Is it getting dark soon?
He leaves me to wonder where my hands are and where the dark is,
the Holy Sage smoking at my side.
Like some dark sabbath.
Like some reading of the will.
Like some dark and holy delta sleep in a crib of red clay.
I have a feeling I have been gone a very long time and I
want to be home now,
but there is buzzing and chirping and a red light and
Saul of Tarsus holds a great tome before me and with my hands
I hide my eyes.
I am the dreaming of the world of dreams.
Therein the Holy Light rages like the flare of 1000 suns
while my eyes are shuttered tight
like old memories all gone beyond the sorrow.
The old oath keepers are all plates and screws.
The golden woven orbs and cactus spines are all empty on
the altar like a decommissioned slaughterhouse.
So I go and make a body count.

Birds singing out my window
Please quiet down so I can sleep
Because I had so much concentration
But suddenly it seems it has left me

Dream dream dream
I dream of you
When I don’t think to
But when I try I just can’t find you and me
Hopefully
You’re unintentionally dreaming of me

You’re so worth it, yes you are
You are worth every scar
Every hopeless desire I dream
Is a dream of you  
But they never come true

Dream dream dream
I dream of you
Of course I do
Dream dream dream
You’re in my head
You’re in my bed
You’re every where
And I  just want you next to me
Maybe then I could sleep

There's a certain loneliness i could not describe; a kind of sadness no song can soothe through. I think I have done the same mistake again. And yes, here comes the pain. 

The pain of watching the beauty of the stars grace the night. It's so sad not to be able to touch such beauty and feel its heat. This hollowness digs in and it squeezes tears out of my eyes. You bring comfort - the kind of comfort that has always been half tangible - half intangible. We are always somewhere in between. We say what we want to hear but one day, i wanted to hear you say you will stay with me forever.
                                    Because i have been dreaming about us together.
Building a house turning it into home, our child inside your arms
caressing her tenderly because you have always wanted a daughter
pressing your lips into her cheeks
loving us, loving us.

But, we are two individuals that do not define eternity. Our names have been categorized to somewhere near temporary and fleeting. And this comfort i feel will always be half tangible; half mine and half lost. 

And how it makes me cry. I really want to cry. It is starting to get hurt and i wonder if i should stay longer.

Is it bad that I would rather lie awake
Dreaming of you
Dreaming of death
Is it bad that I break every night
My ribs cracking open
With the song of your soul
That both slices and saves
Is it bad that I cry red tears
That bleed from scars on my fragile heart
                   --..--
I am nothing but broken ribs
And blood and dust
But you hold me as if
I am something more
The roots, and not just the seeds
And when I push you away
You pull me back
and hold me close
And I accept
And I sleep
But sweetheart you will not stay for me
For you are not mine to keep
So I will lie awake
In disconnected misery
Dreaming of you
Dreaming of death

after all the time spent teeming
in the closets and the cupboards
i have finally accepted
that the rats are really gone

the scratching in the ceiling
is just my lucid dreaming
i'm pining for a creature
that's never done me good

i wonder if i drank the cleaner
would my mind be shining too
i cannot take another evening
the ants are in my skin

you always did smell like home
i've lived in caves all my life
there will never be an ocean
bigger than this one

if i crack this one mirror
so will my every capillary
my tissues will erupt with
hydrofluoric acid

i'm itching from beneath my skin
i swear it's just the rats again
it's not the whispers that i hear
it's just the house settling

it's all the windows screaming
it's the walls constant staring
it's the floorboards ***** sneering
and the bathtub's overflow

mother always said
i should never leave the light on
yet i've been sitting in the dark
and blinded for four years

the chemicals are in my skin
i swear its just the rats again
the walls are singing of my sin
i swear its just the rats again

my veins are asking for a drink
my muscles scream for me to leave
i hear your footsteps in the hall
shotgun ringing in my ears
you were never even here
you were never
even here
you were
never
even
here

Yes, sir, I kissed her
On the mouth in the back of the bus
It was dark so I reached over and touched her
In a place where my fingers had never felt before
You bet your life, I kissed her
And guess what? She kissed me back
I 'bout had me a heart attack
When I felt her tongue on mine

She always has your eyes, darling one
It's how I know it's true
That there will never be another one
Who can do the things you do
No matter who she is
My, love, she always has your eyes
For your eyes are her eyes
It's not a surprise

Yes, sir, it hurt when she left me
I ain't ashamed to admit
Wonderin' how long until she'd forget me
You're ******* right she'll forget
You're best served with the truth, my foe
There's a lot you'll never know
So much I'll never tell you
For now it's time to go...

...go along, little dove, move along the straight and narrow. Bring along your bow and arrow. It's a small gate and few are the wasted who have tasted it's taste then wasted it's a band of jobless ruffians walking in a straight line, eyes locked straight ahead and determined to arrive at their destination. Dressed in monk's robes, their attire was not the only thing about them which conjured the appearance of a band of Tibetan's finest.
     Make haste! Go along, sweet caterpillar of the dawn. Gather your spawn and meet us on the backyard lawn. Make it quick, make your move, make every guitar pickin' note count. This is your time, La Penguin, it is the dawn of your destiny. The pawn of the mystic's I have placed upon a square I am not legally entitled to inhabit, figuring you would not notice it and even if you did you might not realize I was playing the match illegally. Royal eggs hatch regally, they are a meal of value and worth.
     Plath's dead voice recites her own poetry in the 74th century throught the medium of streaming music, which is every man's birthright. The inhabitants of this far off century are each and every soul well versed in song and voice, rythmn and melody, the poignant lyric in the third verse or during the chorus, their collective history was the culmination of thousands upon thousands of years totally absorbed in every aspect of MUSIC. To say they worshipped music would be to stop somewhat short of being the absolute truth but we listen anyway, we always do, good morning, I am the voice in your head. Have you finally befriended me? Finally accepted me and maybe even appreciated me? Regardless. I am the voice in your head. Do you want to know whose voice is in MY head? That's right: YOURS! Do you think this makes me any happier than the prospect of my being the voice in your head it's complicated, I'll grant that. But now that you're on a roll, what say we write some more crap poetry?

Try not to rhyme
No one does that anymore, that's reason enough
Yes, there is a secret meaning behind all this
You were not on my mind when I wrote this crap
If things had gone my way I could be making excruciatingly
Joe, where you going with that gun in your hand?
I love all you *******, I really do
Some of you are genuine artists
Some of you can't write for ****
But that don't make it bad, does it?

Who is she?
She was a worm that crawled in your ear
One summer night while you slept in bed
Dreaming of the day your son
Shot you in the head
Then left you for dead
Wake up, David, wake up!
Fear not the tarantula, David, wake up!
For his bite doth not ****

...go along, feline substitute, your portmanteau is waiting. where are those people now who were so recently uncharitable? They've all been little boys before, every soldier in the field, every face behind bars, they've all had baths and someone to dry them off. Surely this must be? I am too wasted to go on.

Naya kudro. Reo o hart bonite. Rega in gavida, gavida. E qualid plea, senior away cast them in fee, el mquee.
Hula sona karay. Shis attune heh, hey hey, the grinavorte, honeas delong. O, fate be a queen. Allah's mortal today. The name. I don't want a name. Oh, no. The glad. Uh, uhhhhhhhh, uh, I'm madalam...you know....it's grand.......these sandwiches, they're grand.........beam me up, Scotty, you know the rest of the joke........Just like drums in an African rainforest, glistening with moisture, the rain mixing up the rythmns as drops make contact with skin. .........holding in past for the trial........coming in a car.........what a................you run, you running so much higher, climbing on a wire, you know..........you run, you running so much faster and now you're...........holding in past for the time......holding and caring for strange..........what catches your eye.........

I only thought I was too wasted to go on.
But this time
It's a for sure deal
I
am
too
wasted
to
continue

...to be continued

Oh, you'd do well
to show me
how you move
and prove
you are who spewed
that spell
that sent me spiraling down
to this watery hell.

Tentacles drag at my heels
and menace my habitat,
of which contained
only a bit of that bad ****.

Now I'm wallowing in it
up to my neck
and I can't quit
choking on these eels and snakes
crawling outta the holes
in my face.

It makes for quite a spectacle
when a maniacal grin
spreads with slime
and slithers further
into the water.

It dissolves and withers
as it grasps at the miracles
swarming and spiraling
high above me.

It oozes and seeps
until it covers all I see.
The sea is alive with feelers
stretched out to reach
the pinnacle
I had tried once to keep.

Now I'm down here
breathing in the salt water
and the filth,
screaming at the sky
and dreaming of the guilt
I had once
when the sun warmed my face
and all fell under
the one light,
where nobody hates
the liquid they are
making it in.

So, I'll ask you again,
how is it you dragged me down
into this freezing marine oblivion?
And how did you give me
these gills
and these fins
that make life
under these unctuous waves
almost bearable?

I am dreaming of a love that allows me to be free,
to be myself and not be afraid of what life holds for me.
I've prayed for this so long, it seems I cannot quite recall
of a time when I was not alone and did not want it all.

I dreamt of a love to hold me close and stay through troubled times,
to make me feel like I was special and ease my troubled mind.
One who will make me feel secure despite advancing years,
a man who will hold a handkerchief and wipe away the tears.

It seems to me that this is not too much to ask one for,
to give me something that will last and not to look for more.
It cannot be that You have made me live this life alone,
for You have promised me another in life to make a home.

So please don't fail me now for my time is growing nigh.
For 'til now this life has given me just any plain old guy
Can You be called to give me a someone to give me hope
so that I can live my life with joy and love to help me cope?

Shadows come dancing,
and twilight draws near.
But your tiny candle smiles,
and scares away your fears.
And as I wait, with the moonlight
ever gleaming,
I can't help but ask,
"What are you dreaming?"

Are you a man,
traveling to the ends of the earth?
Or are you a boy,
sleeping delicately by the hearth?

Are you a knight,
following the morning lark?
Or are you a sailor,
preparing to embark?

Are you a wizard,
muttering your wild spells?
Or are you a warrior,
seeking out violence to quell?

Are you a gardener,
caressing sweet leaves of thyme?
Or are you a troubadour,
weaving together blissful rhymes?

Are you a king,
childishly ruling over your courts?
Or are you a fool,
commanding the jokes the aristocrats afford?

And yet, I can only ask,
of the thoughts in your mind,
as I continue with my task,
of watching over time.

I find myself
Running fingertips
Over the places on my neck
That you've tasted

Dreaming up those times
As solid as I can make them
To feel the rush again
Of your weight against me

Do you remember
How I taste?
Do you lie awake at night
Sweating out the details?

Does your heart still pound
Heavy and strong in your chest
For that love
You still don't comprehend?

I'll tease myself
The way you do
Only touching
For fleeting seconds

I'll think of you
And find release
Faster than you'd think
And it's like a drug

When I
Think about you
I touch
Myself

Dreaming about the future
While living in the past
Is a one way ticket to madness

Its now five twenty-one
So says the clock by my pen
My family all sleeps, but not me

At five twenty-one I sit awake and wonder
How time does pass me by
For is it not just a creation of man?

Five twenty-one
A time when the sun has yet to rise
Though the moon had already more than set

At five twenty-one I can see her
A figment that might not exist
The love I thought I remembered
Though if not real, then really imaginary

The time, five twenty-one
I'm exhausted, my eyes feel heavy
But I could no more sleep than I could sprout wings
She thought that was funny

Even at five twenty-one when she first woke up
Does she bring with her the most prominent thoughts of beauty
Even so early does she bring with her a light that makes me smile

So at five twenty-one I have to ask
Is she the figment of my imagination,
Or am I the guy she's been dreaming of?