Round and round, I am bound
to get dizzy. Sometimes, I feel
like my head is spinning. Brains
possibly missing. Beans possibly
spilling. Like a whirlwind, I spin
round and round, dancing to
the sound of a familiar song
What goes up must come down.
It’s just a circle, not a hurdle.
For the last time, I will jump off
this whirling hamster wheel.
Time to get off the roller-coaster
that makes nothing feel real.
Hey. You! Yeah! You.
Move. Take a step.
Take a chance. Move.
Buy a new pair
of dancing shoes.
Find a different
groove. Don’t be
afraid to lose.
When you play,
pay your dues.
Move. It’s much
better when you
get to choose.
Keep on dancing
for your love is
everlasting. Move.
There is nothing
for you to prove.
Time continues to slip
through my gentle grip.
The clothes on my back
continue to get ripped.
My words get flipped.
Blue skies open wide
bringing those who hide
out into the holy light.
Blue skies seem to fade
to gray when the sun
goes away. I don’t mind
doing a little dance
under the thunder.
Days fade to gray
as rain drops drip
onto a vacant crypt.
All colors eventually
fade to gray. Evidently,
some shade is man-made.
Our song plays and time stops.
It’s just me and you. We dance
all night as our light slowly burns.
Your eyes say more than you
know. I must know how you feel.
This is real. The DJ plays a slow song
and I fall in love again. It must be
our song. I can’t be wrong. Our song
plays. We hold each other. We rock
back and forth into the night
as we share this dance for the rest
of our days, the rest of our life.
I am part of a tribe that feels alive.
We drink, dance, and indulge.
We talk, laugh, and cry into the night.
We understand how to combat the cold.
Once reunited, I become excited.
This feeling of bliss, I just can’t fight it.
I am one with the group – I am one
letter in this alphabet soup.
When others seem to often debauch,
we turn around and refuse to watch.
Love is our group’s practical practicum;
We receive love, then give away some.
Much like how pandas clench their own,
we seize the night and hold on tight
before we notice the morning’s light.
IN YOUR DREAMS POETRY 