
Image by beate bachmann from Pixabay
Image by beate bachmann from Pixabay
U-BOAT DAWN
I fool with the hatch
of my dream submarine
Time for the surface
of things to do
or time for one more dive
A FUNNY STORY
In the dream I say to brother Wally
you’re going to have to tell the story
or the milk I drank way back then
is going to come out my nose again
CARL HAS NOT LEFT THE BUILDING
The first night in Zurich I dream
Carl Jung is teaching right across the park
– turns out that he did
Also dream of sitting at a sidewalk café
with my teacher who studied with him
many years ago
Across the street and half way down the block
I am only mildly surprised to find
the café and table still there
DREAMS
Digging out once again
from dreaming I’m
dreaming I’m
dreaming
where I tread pasts
and foretell futures
embrace taboo embraces
am chased and chase
in many a circled chase
Buildings never built
I construct and walk among
and chat with father
mother and Carl Jung
New music I compose
on a Strad I heard
in concert only once
understand and speak
Spanish, French and Greek
Write direct and act the parts
in full length movies
almost every night
If you think that
in the morning I’d be tired
you’d be right
DREAMS OF SAFETY
Over the wall where fires burning
a black cloud rolling
Out of a black cloud rolling
a rainbow beaming
Out of a rainbow beaming
raindrops falling
Each drop to its color
clinging
Crystal gemstones
shining
falling
DREAM SHIP
In the dream
a friend of a friend
has come to his end
on a ship in the year
that they never once touched land
So poignant it seems in the dream
so sad that he died so far from his home
that I run in search of paper and pen
to write a properly honoring poem
But you know how it is, or maybe you don’t
in dreams, and dreams within dreams as well
that, no-way, no-win cement-footed hell
where every last paper that I can find
already has writing on every side
and even after elbowing
other dreams to the side
and trying as hard
as I can to hold on
I emerge at dawn
words gone
ONE FIFTY AND COUNTING
In the dream
Hal and I are sitting on the curb
at the corner of Time and Wisdom
having a nice long chat
It is one of many dreams
with Hal and Sidra in starring roles
If they were to charge us for this time
(as they sometimes threaten to do)
I mean even at their standard rates
never mind 2.5 for nights and weekends
how many many thousands would we owe
If they charged for the wisdom
the national debt would seem low
HI HO HI HO
Work
I sometimes think about it, but not too hard
Like, shouldn’t there be a different word
for doing what we love or hate, for money
Like how I got to drive big trucks at eighteen
that I dreamed about at eight
and they paid me
Like playing cowboy and riding the range
where the deer and the antelope play
and getting paid
Building buildings bigger than Lego
and getting paid
Maybe work is about being serious
but I seriously question that too
I mean, what can be more joyous and serious
than a child adding one last block to his tower
or me, as I write this poem, and look up
to see it is 1:25 in the morning