Tag Archives: Dreams



Digging out once again
from dreaming I’m
dreaming I’m

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



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 honouring 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



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




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


(for Maia)

Boogie man boogie man get out of my dream
Boogie man boogie man can’t make me scream

Cause I’ve got a dream catcher over my bed
I’ve got a dream catcher right over my head

Now only sweet dreams can make it through
and boogie man boogie man that ain’t you

Boogie man boogie man get out of my dream
Boogie man boogie man can’t make me scream

You were feeding on my fears all night long
that’s what was making you big and strong

Now dream catcher and me have got you beat
so you have to eat at Susie’s down the street

Boogie man boogie man get out of my dream
Boogie man boogie man can’t make me scream