“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label Sandman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sandman. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 4, 2019
King of Sandcastles
All the little boys begin
by feeling the power
of costume and cape
learning man versus
nature-
good guys and bad guys
until one day
the costume
becomes a uniform,
clean lines
disappear and
superheroes
become firemen
capable of brazen acts
of valor.
Before the selflessness,
all the little princes
are pranksters,
putting a single grain of sand
inside the oyster shell,
into the monks shoe,
and these became pearls,
of course
time
refined
things.
Little girl, I was called
Firestarter,
and practiced the title
often on bridges.
I have never seen the Sandman
in my sleep,
but in my wake
I feel the sand
filling me in-
side.
Apropos of the ritual
I chose
to be buried alive
after I say
I do
wish
to be cut by pearls
into innumerable
and indistinguishable
pieces of myself
made up
of ashes and rust
as it must be
my nature.
I must confess,
the arsonist
admired his work
while I wed
the King of Sandcastles
before the tide rushed in.
Photo credit: Galveston Island Sandcastle, Texas, taken July 2011 in Public Domain.
Saturday, February 9, 2019
Episodic
My dreams had something (important) to tell me
last night.
And on the rare occasion the
Sandman sits down,
crosses his legs
and heart,
promises not to take more than a
Soul, tells a story, and
I get up
before he can get to the point-
of dreaming...
You know, some people believe that dreaming
is reality and the Real World
is make-believe,
comprised of the stories we tell
Ourselves-
True enough
to imagine.
Have you noticed that some people
live for their dream
even when they don't understand
its language.
If we dream we have it All
and get it,
would losing it
become a dream?
Between shades of light and dark,
shadow and body,
we collect impressions of what time it is,
subconsciously we know
all the has been dreamt before.
The point of the dream
the Sandman said is
that it never ends with
Us.
Painting by Franz Marc, 'The Dreaming Horse' c. 1913 [Public domain].
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