Dreams are born

At sea

The rudder gives you

A straight course

But the mind keeps meandering

In the long and lonely

Hours of the night

When the stars speak

To the defenseless mind

Making strange pattern

In the conscious mind

Storytelling

Writing to capture

My life

What it was

What it never became

What I wanted to do

What I manage to do

The time is running out

The pain of memory follows me

Wherever I go

But it can be written

It can be spoken

And put into pictures

Making things a little better

Madness

The madness of creation

Has taken hold of me

I enjoy it

Floating along

Angry messy people around me does not

Stop me any more

Reduction

Monday is the worst of days

Forcing its discipline

Upon us early in the

Morning, reducing

Our option

Streamlining the path

To achievement and

Failure,

You cannot be creative

Just working catatonic

In the catacombs of

The reptile brain

Dark Morning

Suddenly I woke up

In a moment of

Short, sanity

Realizing that

Inside me

A birth was taking place

Confused and overwhelmed

I started to examine what type

Of birth it was, realizing that I did not

Really know maybe

A parasite or a new me?

A fantastic idea or a new way

To make tea?

Something very different it was

Quickly disappearing out of

The consciousness and I

Went into the gray clout of

Everyday winter light