Saturday, October 13, 2007

untitled dream poem 1

Sparks fly in my mind
Out of my ears and under my eyes
Oh how divine

But suddenly it quits
Like a candle stripped of its wick

And my eyes open in this dark world.


Memory, imagination blend like coffee
And what is produced is much more delicious
Part remembering what love feels like
Part pretending that it was between us

And somehow the world feels so cold
In contrast to my coffee soaked world.