I just dreamed she
was a bleached blonde
but I know better,
Running up to me in a long
familiar unfamiliar hallways,
wrinkles and cracks.
She wants information, my
dreaming self knows I won’t
share; I have never shared
very well. In front of my
eyes flash a series
of red images. Any one
of them would make
a perfect tattoo. That’s how
I know I am awake.
Within the explosive outer
is faith of the modern day latter
who came later
into the world of an ornate technology, bomb crater,
and now is mad as a hatter
there are times when these
hills are piquant, still born
even till crusty dawn,
at least the crashes and dashes which work out, in outer spaces is the riddled world of poetry and prose
and all those baby faces.
This is when we search for
color to transform cold grey.
Rainfall begins its magic
brightening our sky blue.
We scan stacks of luminous clouds
as trees pop out green buds and
forsythia bursts sparkling yellow stalks.
Just today a breath of warmth
brought alive pink crepe myrtle branches.
Aromatic lilac bushes gather in
soft bunches while birds and bugs
encircle them. We are listening now
to the first chorus of spring time.
For once
be honest
with yourself
with everyone
what needs to be
fixed
is also broken
in you
too much sexism
hatred
homophobia
racism
general darkness
lives right
under our society’s
surface.
Things that give pleasure
I say are never really gone
We can provide us comfort
Better forget about speed
So if we take things slow
We will find what we need
100% organic gluten free
Hugs and kisses all ways
So familiar to you and me
Say no more shut the door