A single dream can ignite a flame
that can light up a dark room.
A single dream can jumpstart
a dead battery or a broken heart.
A single dream can reveal a life
that only exists during the night.
A single dream can create motion
that juxtaposes life’s commotion.
A single dream can shed light
without burning too bright.
A single dream is all it takes
to get moving to the rhythm
of your choosing. Dream on
before someone else tells you
that dreaming big is wrong.
Get this bread. Fill your head.
Love endlessly. Laugh often.
Nail the coffin shut. Strut
your stuff. Call their bluff.
Say anything except “but”.
Find different ways to
fill your cup. Look up to
your friends, not your foes.
Survive the lows and enjoy
the highs. Become surprised.
Live through your own eyes.
Don’t wait until they dry.
It won’t last if you go faster.
Slow down in times of disaster.
No need to talk when you can
listen to the voices you have
been missing. Enjoy this time
as death will, one day, take
both you and me away.
BEEEEEEP
*Emergency Broadcast*
Get off the mainland. Unidentified aircrafts have overtaken the island and are launching, what appears to be, green goo all over buildings, causing them to melt on contact. There are too many aircrafts to count. All boats have departed. Those of you left, hurry to the last departing boat. I repeat – get off the mainland.
*Broadcast Ends*
——————–
I wake up. I get ready to leave.
I slap on some causal clothes.
Dress shoes: I don’t need those.
I look up and notice the time.
I have 30 minutes to get to
the last boat. The mainland is
sinking, and I can’t float. Hope
is shrinking. Without thinking,
I rush to the dock with a bad
back and a knapsack. I approach
the dock with holes in my socks.
I see a light fading in the mist.
I get the gist. I missed the boat.
I drop to my knees. I curse
the skies and the stars above.
Seconds later, a flying saucer
takes shape of a loving dove
that spits green slime in my eye.
I wipe my face. I see a light.
No way this can be right.
The dove transforms back
into a flying saucer. A black-
eyed, small, frail, lifeform
comes flying out its door and
has its hands around my neck.
I jam my thumb in its green
head until, well, you know,
it was dead. Not after long,
I climb in the vacant saucer.
Just like that, I was a goner.
I may have missed the boat,
but I killed an alien and flew
to places only NASA knew
about. It was a better route.
Now, I stay put in Area 51,
where I hide from the sun.
It’s time to face it. Nothing
can replace grit. Prepare
and get mentally fit. Train
through the pain. Maintain
a winning attitude. Practice
gratitude. Curb the attitude.
Build the strength to fight
what cannot be seen, even
in light. Stay ready and walk
steady. Act like you know
where you’re going. Tonight
is the night you fight. Face
your fears. Punish the past
and fracture the future for
keeping you scared all those
years. Wipe your tears and
break the rear-view mirror.
Now is the time to be strong.
Later is the time to be wrong.
My clothes have looked ripped,
torn, and haggard from the day
I was born. I didn’t think they
were worn down until they were
handed down. Despite the dirt,
I saw clearly. I got clothes yearly
at Goodwill, thrift stores: clearly.
I have fallen, tripped, and ripped
my clothes. It’s the way it goes.
Instead of feeling bad for myself,
I slowly got up looking for help.
It didn’t take long before I found
a queen without the silly crown.
She was happy to show me around.
Within days, I learned how to sew.
With learning to sew, I learned how
to heal. Each time I fall, I recall many
lessons that lessen the hurt and pain.
When I fall, I know my wounds will
heal and my clothes can be stitched.
When there is nothing left but love,
that’s when my life’s been enriched.
IN YOUR DREAMS POETRY 