Sonnstag Traum Journal

I dreamed I was a pale, baroque thing with thin reaching limbs so long and fragile.  I was driving my truck, my bleeding, aging, pick-up truck with my long, pale limbs so thing and fragile.  And it was terrifying.  


My limbs were weak and my truck was fading.  It wasn’t long before I found the breaks were dead.  It was night and now I was just booming on, speeding ahead and then suddenly, smack, I was dead.  


When I woke up I found my lover next to me and her cat purring on my chest.  I took solace in this if not in dreams nor in waking thoughts during what people call reality.  


And strange to me, my dreams have darkness in them.  As if someone is trying to tug at the frayed threads on the fringes of my conscious, the places where strange things alone may take hold, the place where things are generally ignored.  It is as if a malignancy stalks me and haunts my dreams with its presence but that I am so much of love that I remain out of its reach.  Nevertheless, this dark circles me and pollutes my dreams.  


Perhaps I would find out what this means and then face what must be fought?


Stop the Deadly Machine!

Listing to the sides the punkj soil and slide breaking down the concrete barriers to reality existence and the ultimate dream,

swearing in legions they spit and kick up dust.  Now nothing can be seen

screaming and screaming I believe in the death of that- that machine 

and so the machine died when they commanded it too

the machine was of their soul and their blood 

it was nourished by their nightmares– so too its shattered by dreams 

death to the drunk, long live the punk, stop the deadly machine!Image

Melt Away

Tired- and from what?
Dreams of cars
Exploding guitars
Fascism in training
Overgrowth in undertown
Underwear oblivion
Sprinkled on
A Friday morning
Without much else
But to trip and-
Melt away.

That sunrise again

I woke up high-

On a floating bed

The buttress

Of a fortress

Floated next-

To me.

I sighed and witnessed

Another sunrise.

Must the world

Never stop spinning

May time

Come to no end

Even so-

I will never

see that sunrise again.

I’ll Just sit next to you

When I find my loving
I will finally move on
And give my cherry honey
A Yorkshire farm

Until that time
Ill dream and lie
Flirt with tangents
To make angels cry

And when I find my loving
My longing will be true
Ill stand for the things I stood for
When I was still in high school

Until I find my loving
I’ll just sit next to you

Get up

Sup world
Every morn
I rise
And check
My arms
My legs
Still long
My wounds
Still sigh

And I close my eyes
And wait for the next

Rise now
And check
Look and
To see

That everything is still there
That my self is complete

Dreaming the apocalypse

Spinning me new ones
Bleeding my money away
Closed out
Rail lines
With too few options

This is my America
A place where you can’t afford
But breads everywhere
You can stay where you stand
And get fat like everyone else

But you won’t see the rest
And if you travel
And if you try
To chase your dream
You will die

You will get sick
Go mad
Get hungry
Hide your eyes and sigh

You will be betrayed by a thousand lovers
And wake up every weekend
Missing your forgotten loves
And grasping for footholds
On the open air

Dreaming the apocalypse was today
When it’s always tomorrow

As darkness chokes the trees

sleep takes me slow

I live to dream

to draw the world of day

worthless as clay

the world of night

strong, backwards

strange and stringent

subject to perception

perception to deception

as darkness chokes the trees


Dream my heart
Dream my love
There is no more sorrow
For your brow

Dream my heart
Dream my lover
Lift weary arms
No more

There is nothing for you
But to have a sweet night
“Things are never as bad as they seem
So dream, dream, dream, dream”

Dream my soul
Dream my love
Wake to find a new shore
And to dream once more

But in your dreams
Do not rest