A Poet’s Dream

A Poet’s dream is to be heard
and not seen. A Poet’s dream
is to create, to wait, and to
discover one’s own fate.
A Poet’s dream manifests itself
in words, sounds, and mounds
of half-written ideas found
under the surface: underground.
A Poet dreams a dream brighter
than the sunlight and better than
a good night under the stars’
inviting sight. A Poet’s dream
is to change the world –
to rearrange things to release
one’s hidden pain. Just like
ghosts, Poets do not show them-
selves, but they do know them-
selves. A Poet’s dream
is to live a life that can manifest
itself before and during the night.

Beneath the Sea

Sailors, fish, and ships
dance and sing beneath
the sea. All that sunk
now resides beside
a rushing tide. Far
beneath the sea.
Sailors, fish, and ships
have ended their trips.
Many have been put
to rest after completing
their quest. Life roams
free beneath the sea.
We cannot see beyond
the reef. Sailors, fish,
and ships are at ease
beneath the sea.

Under the Weather

Sometimes, I just want to
run away from myself –
take a trip – sail the ship.
Most days, the feeling stays.
Most times, I wish I knew
how to feel younger
without losing wisdom.
I reside in the deep
pockets of my vast mind.
I look for things to hide
behind when I try to find
the time to feel divine.
I search for better days;
I look for better times.
Sometimes, I just don’t feel
myself; I feel like someone
else. Most days, I look up
to see the smiling sun.
I am beginning to see
better days ahead of me.

Under Construction

During the ride, I stay inside
the painted lines of my mind.
I pick up the speed I need
to discover what I seek.
I travel several miles
to find what makes me smile.
At times, I lose all control
of the car that drives my soul.
I find ways to drive straight
into a storm of uncertain fate.
Throughout my ride, I pass signs
that reminds me of travel times.
I know this road can be rough;
I know that I must be tough.
At times, I open windows
to teach others what I know.
Anyone can tell you that
the journey gives what you lack.
This road of dysfunction
is under construction.
Although its destruction,
I still manage to function.
I have all the time and drive
to keep dying dreams alive.