The Dreamer

The Dreamer

We met in someone else’s dream,
bit players
in a dance through ever changing landscapes.
Our eyes met
when The Dreamer wasn’t looking.
I ran to you,
but The Dreamer woke
and I found myself
alone in a cold and empty room.

I searched for you
behind every stranger’s smile
the eyes were never yours.

The Dreamer slept
and I saw you through
cotton-candy-clouds.
I was a giraffe
you a dragon.
I knew you by your eyes.
We held hands by a lake
in the forest of someone else’s mind.
I leaned to kiss you
and The Dreamer woke.
I was alone in a room,
with a faint smell of perfume.

The Dreamer slept again
and you were astride my back.
My hooves plodding out a
syncopated rhythm.
You chatted with the queen
absently stroking my mane.
Then in an instant I was a falcon
perched on The Dreamer’s arm.
You were the prey.
As my talons began to sink
into your mousey flesh,
The Dreamer woke
and I was in that room
clutching a pillow,
afraid it would get away.

I search for you each day
when The Dreamer wakes.
Each night I swim with you
in an ocean lit by a spaghetti moon
and lie with you on sands
warmed by gumdrop suns.

One day I will find you
and hold you in dreams of my own.
Until then,
I pray The Dreamer never wakes.

Between Two Worlds

I am stuck between two worlds. Between the world of who I was, and the world of who I may now become. Gone are childhood aspirations and dreams. Gone are the friends that would have traveled with me to the stars. Ahead of me the way is open to a thousand roads, each leading to a future I never envisioned. Yet I am stuck. I don’t know which road to take, nor even how to begin. Ahead of me there is everything, and nothing, my dreams and my nightmares. Time and life keep moving as I stand still, afraid to make the wrong choice, or perhaps more afraid to make the right one. Today the roads that lie ahead of me are what they are. Tomorrow they will be different. It is up to me to take the first step, but my feet will not obey. My heart sees me as I was when I was young, full of life and eager to tame the world. My mind sees me as old and afraid. My feet don’t know who to listen to, so I stand still waiting to make my choice.

I Dreamt of Roses

I Dreamt of Roses

roses

roses (Photo credit: Robert Couse-Baker)

It is the wind
that whispers to me.
My dreams hear your voice.

“Lover!”,
you call.

Finding you in your garden
picking weeds,
I watch till you speak.

“I have missed you.”

The weeds in my hands
turn to worms,
then spaghetti.
The garden is now your kitchen,
the roses, garlic bread.
You smile and I feel my heart swell.

The table is now my bed.
You sit beside me
and gently ease me back.
As you climb on top of me
my heart swells again,
the love exploding in my chest.
You gently kiss my cheek.

Opening my eyes to kiss you back,
I am greeted by a furry, yellow cat
sitting on my chest,
wanting to be fed.

Is a Man a Fool?

Is a Man a Fool?

Is a man a fool to dream
of things out of reach,
to stretch his arms
and grasp at the stars themselves?

Is a man a fool to attempt
things that others tell him
he cannot do,
and then wonder why it doesn’t work?

Is a man a fool to put his trust in others
and hope they will keep their word
and this time
won’t break his heart?

Is a man a fool to love
with all he has,
to give his soul
knowing he is not loved in return?

Is a man a fool?

(Well am I? I mean, he, is he? Yeah that’s it, he.)