Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Last Night

I awoke last night
from a dream
I can't remember.
My body shook
with fear
as I sat up
in bed.
The room, a black fuzz,
with blurry eyes
blinking the time,
seemed to swallow me whole.

I could hear nothing;
see nothing;
feel nothing;
taste nothing;
say nothing.

It took a full
5 minutes
to realize
that I was still
asleep,
waking up.

Under the Shadows of the Wood

Severed branch
reaching up from the grass
waving to me
beckoning me to follow.

Whattya think, Hamlet?
Do I go?

Sunday, September 04, 2011

The Music Above

The music playing above me: a white, satin bra.
I am utterly obsessed with fondling the notes.
It tickles my earlobes as I cock my head back in laughter.
I can taste its sweet skin in the back of my throat.
Laughter echoes within my head.
I am reminded of the long, wooden pier, 
jetting off into the horizon, 
burned onto my retinas.


The ocean, and its misty music, clouds my nostrils with its stench, 
making it difficult to breathe.



I can see clearly the muddy notes 
floating in the space above me.
Stevie Wonder stares at me; 
speaking his Harlem truth.
I am blind, as I always have been.
Staring at the seashells washed up on shore, I think back:
My memory is a schmuck who won't shut up!


That is why I continue listening.
I'm fixin' to leave, but
the talented musician of ecstasy continues to seduce me,
until I faint from too much sleep.
I melted into this seat, and stuck to its soft leather.
Adrian had the power to listen to my words, but 
failed
him.
I will stop listening soon, and go 
home to the emptiness,
drinking dry water until I am thirsty.
I will eat when I am full, and starve my empty stomach.
Ich habe eine grosse Hunger fuer Musik.
This soft chair tells me that the song is over for today,
but tomorrow 
echoes 
in 
my 
mind.

Saturday, September 03, 2011

Life Could be a Dream

Life could be a dream.
Blackness surrounds us.

Thoughts of a dry brain
in a dry season*,
crumbling while
I drown out my thoughts,
bathed in
Starlight,
my new Muse.

Is it worth it anymore?


* T.S. Eliot