Dreams

 

Writing the words

I welcome the day

Writing the words

with new things to say

Writing the words

my heart like a sponge

Writing the words

all silence expunged

 

Every new sound

alive in the air

Every new phrase

unspoken to share

Every last vowel

irreverent of time

Every last breath

gives voice to the mime

 

Pen in my hand

the journey begins

Pen in my hand

through virtue and sin

Pen in my hand

the Muses surround

Pen in my hand

their voices expound

 

Dreams of my father

dreams of my son

Dreams hold me captive

dreams rebegun

Dreams in the mirror

dreams that relay

Dreams bringing freedom

dreams — dare I pray

 

***

 

Narrative Musings

 

Poetry

can’t scare me

But then

there’s the prose

 

Freewheeling

unstructured

I’m lost

in its throes

 

The words

in my capture

As verse

I sustain

 

But narrative

musings

I fight

— to proclaim

 

***

 

 In The Instant

 

Always the next

poem

always the next

verse

 

That already

written

retreats

to disperse

 

What comes

as a presence

stays fresh

to surmise

 

And freed

in this instant

each word

— more alive

 

(The New Room: May, 2026)

 

Leave a comment