Poem/Song: Moonbeam Bed


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Lie lie my darling

across the moon beam bed

while you toss among the nightmares

and the monsters in your head

 

In daylight hours the dreams

are hidden far away

We walk together tangled

the light will show the way

 

Lie lie my darling

across the moon beam bed

while you toss among the nightmares

and the monsters in your head

 

But as the dark veil grabs you

and fear pulls you down

I feel I cannot reach you

while you’re lost to midnight sounds

 

So lie lie my darling

across the moon beam bed

And fight your tortured dream world

kill the monsters in your head

 

Yes lie lie my darling

across the moon beam bed

For I will always be here

Singing away the dread

 

For I will always be here

Singing away the dread

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Poem: Howl


Soft moon 

you sit quietly 

hanging upon my up turned face

trying to tell me 

speaking many years 

from your mighty vantage 

winking or watching full eyed 

then not bothering with me

at all

Who can blame you 

with that tug 

making me crazy

and lifting my howl 

begging you to answer 

Today you stand stoic 

while I dance beneath 

roundly piercing 

you make my feet glow 

Art: Blazing Hope


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Hope, I am perfectly willing to admit, is one of those things I’ve relied far too much on. My life hasn’t maybe been as tidy as I’ve wanted it to be, but I keep thinking it’s OK because I always have that thing called hope. It can be plastered on anything really and comes in handy for so many situations…

For you see, the discussions for me happen pretty much in my own head: over and over. That looping of thoughts, both of all the stuff that I shouldn’t have done–(it doesn’t last for too long anymore)–and that almost immediate glow of hope trying very hard to wipe out those other stale ruminations of the past.

So I talk with myself constantly (sometimes quite out loud)–trying to set the hope free: that burning hope. I figure if I keep this chatter on long enough, maybe eventually it will set ablaze and blast off into reality.

Poem: The Artist 


Turning inside out 

exposing raw reality buried 

under layers of hidden sinew

meant to stay tucked 

the quiet fist of crazy

crouched behind daylight 

They dragged it out

in slanted moments 

It came at times 

unwilling 

and others 

leaping out of its den

But once loose

It pleased Pandora 

and never would return 

Now free to torment 

its fire burns beauty 

until the brilliance 

dies out