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.
Deep in my mind, memories get stored.
My brain is a steel trap that opens
and closes. It’s impossible not to
remember a burning fire and how
it came from an ember. My mind
is a bank that will never be blank.
Blank checks and recurring thoughts
do not need to be bought. My mind
does not idle. Boredom often rivals
constant brain activity. It’s on file.
Memories deposited take refuge
in the deep depths where thoughts
of life and death intersect. Accounts
of my life stay full as good moments
fill my soul. Overdraft fees bring me
to my knees and memories do as
they please. My memory bank fills
up like a cup that never spills.
Take me home: the place I love.
Let the positive vibrations take
me away. Let the rhythm solve
my problems. Take me into
your place of refuge. Take me
to a distant place: a foreign land.
If you can, take me by the hand.
Take me, and teach me about
life, love, forgiveness, and truth.
Reggae, stay; continue to play.
Take me closer to myself –
I could use your guidance.
The waves of sound wash
away the worry: no hurry.
I can breathe and clearly see
the place you wish to take me.
My darkest day has not come.
When the candles burn out,
when the stars fade to black,
when my spirit starts to slack,
when the grim reaper attacks,
when nightmares become real,
when my fate becomes sealed,
when my skin forgets to feel,
my darkest day will come.
Until then, I will spend my life
spreading light before darkness
ensues; I have no time to lose.
Piece by piece,
I have put myself
together: a mosaic
of sorts. Fragments
of the past grow
into things I know.
In all of my years,
tears dropped,
and some memories
lost. Tossed out.
The day I break
will be the day
I meet my fate.
At any rate, I piece
it all together.
Forever, I will be
at peace. Each
day, I give you
a piece of me,
so one day, I can
set myself free.
IN YOUR DREAMS POETRY 