I lay my head down

In preparation for sleep

But I know it won’t be

A sleep so deep

That I won’t have a dream

Of you and me

And I’ll awake soon later

With cold hands and feet 

Because without you

I’m just not as warm 

I’m just not the same

Inside and out

One Sweet Dream (08.01.12)

My heart, it beats right through my eyes,
Burning with desire and all that lies
Beneath your skin, much softer than mine
So soft it seems, to slow down time

Heart to heart and hips to hips,
Down your sides, run my fingertips
Feel the heat, the sweet smell of sweat
As we grow entangled the closer we get

Skin to skin and lips to lips
Down my sides, run your fingertips
Taste the salt and hear the rain
With nothing to lose and all to gain

Face to face we share our lives
We come together like twisting twine
Sharing our strength and so much more
But what, I ask, is all this for?

It’s just a dream; I’ve had of you,
A dream, it seems, will never do
Maybe I’m just, a sunlight gleam,
But I’ll keep dreaming, this one sweet dream.

Dad (05.08.11)

The white lines blur as we drive along
And the smell of sun-baked upholstery
Soaks my nostrils, like water soaks a sponge,
With the comfort of home, and having a family.

I’m dazed from a day’s long labor,
My eyes heavy, and my head grows lazy.

You wrap your arm around me
With love and brazen consideration
Pulling me close against your scent;
The smell of comfort, and having a family.

I am whisked away into a world long lost,
Whisked away into a world without cost.

The Factory (07.28.10)

In my dreams, the real comes alive
Deep within my gear-like mind
This factory forges my perceptions
Percieved of life by my six senses

With every product comes pollution
And other effects by pure delusion
But from the chimney, billows my words
And around it sits, these listening birds

They make no sound, in their sleep-like stand
For they lost their voices, cawing over land
All they do is sit and behold
The laboring gears, as they bear the cold

The factory is guarded, by heavy stone walls
Built from fear, and whatever may fall
From the moonlit sky, where the spiders crawl
From star to star, as they devour them all

Behind the walls, presides the cheif
A man whom seems, so filled with grief
For he himself is lost for words
As much as are, the listening birds

Beyond the gates are shallow graves,
Merry-go-rounds and carriageways
The vivid reminders of what he had
Insights to his mind, as but a young lad

On said terrace, drives mission men
Carrying the love, laughter and the yen
And in their carriages they do carry
Tablets that could keep, all the land merry

While pedaling through their endless drive
These men do write to stay alive
They scrawl their thoughts, in inks so bold
And shine in the sun, like lovely gold

From his tower, the cheif could see
All that light that came to be
Thus lit up the merry-go-rounds
That lay beyond, the factory grounds

The reflection twinkled, in his eyes,
And sparked a thought for which he’d die
His finger ran fast, throughout the night sky
But, alas, he couldn’t see why

Everyone needs some simple things
Even those, in the fighting ring
So in my dreams, I will dream
That the poor cheif finds, his special needs