Measuring dreams

-


"I don't know what you're thinking
Only what you tell me..."

"You've never been a jerk to me...
Don't ever say that"

Dreams are simple it's the idealized
Version of what could be

sniveling while hoping for a upgrade

...in another life... maybe...

I can see it in your eyes

I cant keep you safe

Can't even promise
I'll be coherent in the morning

On the other side of eternity is....
How I will measure this dream...
"Hold me."

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Wayward Bound Or: a warped piano accompanying an epic f@%king poem. (Cluster one, of five.)

-
Image
        an Opera in D-Minor (Call me little horn!)   I wish I was a poet... Looking up at the Spun Sugar (The shade of clouds of the near dark) Whistling some bluegrass tune, as my sweetheart cooks our supper (Some slow cooker chili with jalapenos and banana peppers shore would hit the spot).   I wish I was a catfish swimming through the outer dark of space eating the light and swimming in the abyss. While space pirates dance in their shuttle craft with the naked women they have "liberated" as the carrier they attacked is set ablaze from the inside.   ...The maidens are never to be seen again...   I wish my bones to be picked clean by some prehistoric critter... that I may be devoured... that the loss of my life (through one hell of a struggle) would leave me content despite the meaninglessness of the pain. Because I know in my heart that things worked out.   I'm too tired to be optimistic But lived enough to know It's a thin line between b
Read more

On the potential distance of other worlds. (revision)

-
“My mission in life is to make everybody as uneasy as possible. I think we should all be as uneasy as possible, because that's what the world is like.”                                 - Edrward Gorey                             1          (A prelude and epilogue) "the ravens fly with quickening lines, dreams of mine but gets goodbyes." where shadows move, confused as signs and our lessons fall as loose as rhymes. Where the plague crow follows the storm yet, we are all so busy with our dream. The sign broken still stands alone, maggots also are fond of quivering my nightmare youth or sanity cries "Dreams of mine, remember" he sighs. of "give it your best please you must try." but in spite of the poetry still we die.                               2 Whenever the words escape or are said, "you deserve to get what you get." I feel as if I paraphrase the dead, "are we to believe miseries gift?" A gnostic with zen
Read more