Dreams



Drink of Night


A glass made from 
midnight
a shot of sleep
a dash of darkness
a pinch of madness
shake don't stir

drink the demons




Opposite


I'm screaming
but I'm sleeping.

I'm angry.

Scared
unable to
wake up

16 legs

Scales

Bulging eyes

Slithering

Leave the children! 
Take me!

Low growl.

The monster has
a tear in its eye.

It isn't
a monster
at all.




Responsibility


Wake up suddenly from
a too-long
sleep

What just happened
Don't move
Don't open your eyes
Try to remember

A flying horse carrying
chocolate bars
in a saddle bag

A girl with long flowing
hair
A smiling boy

Both riding the horse
but the horse has
responsibilities
of his own
He's on a special delivery
His name is Hershey

I'm fully-awake now




Float


Wind gently
skims 
my face
arms
hands

Sky turns purple
lavender

The wind brings
music
lilting
gentle

Smiling faces float
by
loving the breeze
song
sky
serenity




The Buoy


Walking through
a field
turning into
water

Running
Smiling

Boat arrives
I step into
the
petals

Waves of
pollen
turbulent
bulbs
blankets of
tulips

Sleep arrives




Wind


Flowersgrowwildin
dirtswayinginthebreeze
fromnowheresurprising
tallstalksofsunflowers
seedsblowawaycatchingthe
windlandingpetals
ofrosesandrhododendron
andhydrangeaslowlyfalling
tothegroundwithaslight
thumponlytheanthears
butitsoundslikeacrashwhile
heisenjoyinghistimebelow
thesurfacewithhisfamily




A Bump In The Night


I was always happy to know
you'd be dropping by
on those special
nights with my quarter.

I lost a sacred piece of
my mouth during
the day but
the promise of your
visit made my
soreness
less painful.

I woke up with a bump
on my head.
How was this possible?
I went to bed the night
before excited at the 
prospect of getting
my quarter.
Now I am injured.

On closer examination of my forehead,
I discovered a fairy-like imprint upon it.
Does the tooth fairy have bad aim?
Bad coordination?

Two days later
I went to my bedroom floor
in search of my
favorite crayon.

There it was, under
my bed, a tiny tooth fairy-sized
liquor bottle.

Even fairies have hard days.




1985


You wake up and it's
dark but somewhat light
and look around at their
feet with roller skates and
early Michael Jackson in
the background and they
all have leather jackets with
red trim and a white glove
on one hand but the floor
is so glossy and the smiles
so genuine as if they never
left this time or place or
feeling and they all turn
around at once and yell
"1985!" at the top of their
lungs and now it's dark
and I jerk from my snoring.




Sober


Those are the nights,
trying to bring in the light.

Comfortable in my bed,
the sweetest dreams,
sometimes they are a sign.

Did you know what you were doing?
drunk minds, sober thoughts,
they are truly the best ones.

When you wake up screaming and
can't remember why.

Before yesterday morning
the only satisfaction is knowing
I'm not alone.

Husband sleeping sound,
when instead of waking up
you were blindsided.




Irish Sleep


Familiar faces

                       
Galway

              Hope

Tradition

Shop signs
ornate text
the same
yet not

Sweet music to
my ears

Voices speaking,
Irish tongue

Loud 
           
 Happy
                                       
    Chatting
                               
          Symphony

A cobblestone
street
Smelling fish and chips
I can’t resist


Delicious