Thursday, February 26, 2015


Dare I ask 
a sleeping self 
who and what 
to dream about? 
Dare I dream
all along
why whoever
is in there
won't stop
touching me,
against me
to suit them,
submit to them,
to serve them.
Why whoever
is in there
won't let me
I have
my earthly
for the gift
of the sight
of their charred
Layers and layers
of memory traces
in my faces,
my visions
washed against
remote corners
of my mind
the faintest ideas
gather and season,
to be set free
from the grasp
of reason.
Dare I ask
this lucid dreamer
If he can spare
the will to change?
With this poem
I move
into a space
I can make
sudden change.
With this gesture
I move
into a pasture
I can slip into
tangible sleep.


The answer came initially out of the blue
did not ask the question, not even to you.
It surfaced from the void, totally by chance
I have to trace it back to a veritable stance.
A dream in which we are dancing in trance
euphoric in a sense, a delusional enhance.
The crop circle manifest, sign clearly seen
has been from the beginning a force within.
A guiding light that discerns red from green
which is simply a place where I have been.
To be of this world, yet the universe within
can hardly believe in what I have not seen.



The fear of what other’s may think
might be an ironically absurd thing
assumptions which doggedly cling
might not make a just person blink.
Posing for neat appearance effect
pretenders are inclined to project
enchantment of a future prospect
as integrity falls victim to neglect.
Cunningly conceived lovers reject
a suitor showing a lack of respect
charming manners they do expect
which may not cover every aspect
for a loyal lover does not suspect
if the marriage is royally wrecked.