Killing Dreams

moving to wake up
from that kind of dream
the one where you're awake
but you are sleeping all of the day-
where those briefest life glimpses
are up in your head.
it's like straining to break above cold water
when your already dead.
i hope that i make it.
i want to want to.

the whispering time

now is the time
for whispering.
for speaking quietly in the dark.
the rowding crowd boisterous,
laughing, dance and drink
here are the subtle finds.
this is where secret mumbles,
winks, and kisses move.
here in darkness of the open
when hidden dreams go unnoticed.
the inner needs of passing design
twist this-
twist this turning
and make the tongues dance,
carefully.
'tween you and i
furtive questionings
and many guesses go
or seem,
and i, i speak quietly.
for fear and love
and because-
now is the whispering time.

feelings

how i feel
how you are
what i want
and who you are
what we need
and them
my insecurities
the anxieties
and disappointment
your smiles and
inward tears
our frustrations
with talking
and silence.

the screaming hour

sorry loss
and stupid dross
go hibbling and bibbling,
bouncing through the sleepy fog
of madness.
catch a wisp
hatch a kiss
and run around in circles
it is lost 'mongst the cliffs
and vipers.
run baby run
lest they stilt up and catch you
the rats have grown wings
and you are still broken
and drunk.
can collapse be granted?
can the fall be taken?
can we walk and drop and scream
and go insane
and go insane
and go-
(sigh) insane.