As I open my eyes, the tide of the soul
pulls back my dream, slithering into oblivion.
I struggle to remember from deep within.
Half faces, fractured voices and shadowed symbols.
Further back the tide pulls.
The theatre of slumber has a distant thunder.
Memory of the dream is just a blunder.
Morning's reality is chasing me down.
As my thoughts plunge into that inner ocean.
Sleep clutches her secret potion.
Until black night returns,
To once again seize my soul.

The night was a twinkling glitter shower.
The moon's pale lemon light,
caressed the intoxicating sleepy flowers.  
A whisper from the universe,
assured me I was not alone.  
My silent primordial dreams,
were already known.  
Galaxies joyously remember me.  
They recognize my energy.  
It glistens, the celestial shine of night.  
Makes what lays beyond,
seem revelation bright.

Night sky
The giant gown of night sky
felt like smooth billowing black satin.
With vast embroidered fields
of shimmering stars of passion.
Spend with me the nights irrational.
The straight paths are always diagonal.
Scars and stars, a dark and light decoupage.
The tiny moment can one day be large.
It's the glitter days we long to enlarge.
Rational is a mortal chain
On sanity's barge.

The Death of Desire

The arson of my dreams was set by me.
A brilliant blood orange glow.
Down an abandoned wreckage road.
Night and her dark velvet invitations.
Fuel my gasoline Lamentations.
A self inflicted burn, gives desire a final
blistering yearn.
Hope and wishes compose optimism's
lather.
But dreams are now dead blackened cadavers.