Dream Life

                                                   she asked him how he'd done it how he'd built marshmallow towns how he'd met a little poor boy who was destined for the crown she asked him how he know about the language fairies speak and how he'd caught a shooting star that now was his to keep she asked him how he'd touched the clouds without a pair of wings and how he'd heard the music of a chestnut tree that sings she asked him how he'd swum right to the bottom of the sea and how he'd watched a mountain cry and heard the sunshine speak she found it all a mystery he breathed the air she breathed but he breathed out tales of distant lands and things she'd never seen and she saw a world of wonder when she looked up-close at him and when he spoke his words flowed like a poem on the wind he told her that it hadn't been some wings that helped him fly and it had...

                             I'll write for you a poem that you can read from time to time. A tale of how we could be, in a world where you are mine. We'd travel near and far, just us, walking city blocks together. Our feet could take us anywhere and our hands would still be tethered. The starlight could be blinding as the sunshine fades away. Just tell me what to write and I'll create anything you say. I could write us into forever if you let my mind run wild I'd write us onto the tops of mountains where we'd play just like a child. I'd write us into all the wonders that I've ever dreamt of seeing, but the saddest part of writing is that I can't write you into being.

                                            Do you think there is the possibility of you and I? In this lifetime, is that too much to hope for? There is something so delicate about this time, so fragile.  And if nothing ever comes of it, at least I have known this feeling,  this wonderful sense of optimism.  It is something I can always keep close to me-to draw from in my darkest hour like a ray of unspent sunshine.  No matter what happens next, I will always be glad to know there is someone like you in the world.

                                           You think you can define me, That I'm a tick in just one box, Like my being is a door, That a single key unlocks, But let me tell you something, I have the universe inside, I hold an untamed ocean, With a constant changing tide, I'm home to endless mountains, With tips that touch the sky, Flocks of grand migrating birds, And deserts harsh and dry  I house the wildest rivers, And a host of weeping plains, I feel in waves of sunshine, Or in unrelenting rains, Don't tell me that you know me, That " this right here is what you are", I am the universe in motion, For I was born from stars.

                              I have seen the key in the window, separate, gold, shiny, alien to these dirty institution walls. Shall I take the key, shall I escape the four white walls? Shall I walk upon the roads of rainbow, emerald, meditating upon Jewry? Elohim! Elohim! Am I of the lesser light, mind draped. in foreign night? G-d of the desert, I’m drowning in sand here, without nomad salvation. Baby boys, circumcised, observant orthodoxy. “Don’t murder me, don’t murder me, don’t murder me. Let me escape into the sunlight. Let me know who I am, just once. I ain’t crazy, I swear!” I am bound by bars, the key has transformed into shackles. The man with the Golden Warhole telephone has arrived in my room, syringe full of Mescaline, eyes strange with vagrant fire, saying “It’s time to go, it’s time to go, it’s time to forget yourself, time to forget it all, don’t worry, we only mean the best for you.” And I scraw...