Dream Morning Poems

morning stillness

I sit at my table
and look out the window

after rain
the sun pokes through clouds
waking dreams
...

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What’s born will die, we know this
but heart says something’s amiss,
in as there is more to us,
than fears of mind that nonplus.

When we dream, senses...

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Pregnant with intense distress
Fists fly eyes not yet open
Break and fight not fully woken
Metal to metal, bone to wall
Impulse festered in my chest
It did not...

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Monday rolls up
there's not much to say
morning grey drizzle
seems on for the day

Perfection in circles
sizzling bud in a pipe
rings reach for the ceiling
fat, round, and...

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Acid reflux ~ very early morning March 3rd, 2024

Ah... nothing more enjoyable
than acidic gastric fluid (bile)
flowing backward into esophagus,
resulting in heartburn, meanwhile
disrupting pleasant dreams,
which phenomena...

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Oh, Gianna stella piu' splendente del mattino,
di questo immenso e misterioso sogno,
fatti rapire dal suo fascino malizioso;
assaggia la sua magia, tutto e' cosi' sereno!

Oh, Gianna...

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Sensuous sounds of love
whisper their song of plight
amid empurpled trees
fading with sun's pale light.

Starlings transmute to stars
as lovers’ hands entwine
with feelings of passion,
as demure dreams...

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Carpet patterns 
and the swirlings of grain
in wooden floors were maps
to me of exotic worlds,
portal holes for a child
to enter and explore
places edged on the
furthest...

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Weeping eyes dream, as do mine, 
in Satie's melancholic scene,
haunted, his heartbeat,
throbs in my throat,
as I wait in stead, 
to capture, 

every
   breath

of...

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Blatant chaos. Colorful lights mark our path.
Distant waves confuse my sight.
Heads driven into madness, minds broken.
Avoiding the edge. Lost in silence we found our souls.
Vibes...

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In the realm of moons and breathless tides,
where promises dance with a serendipitous sonnet of sunrises,
along with morning kisses, unfolds a love story—
a poetic novel...

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soft reflections
after rain
cardinals dance
the refrigerator hums
time whispers
not quite spring
I write a poem
my friend
she waits for me
my friend
I write a poem
not quite spring
time whispers
the refrigerator hums
cardinals...

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A dark blue midnight  awning has its portrait,
etched by a starlit silver lustrous galaxy,
silhouette of black lace frilled clouds,
in somber quietude  adrift ...

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A dark blue midnight  awning has its portrait,
etched by a a starlit silver lustrous galaxy,
silhouette of black lace frilled clouds,
in somber quietude  adrift...

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icicles on gutters

glisten in light
of early morning

reflections of sun
when sitting alone
my dreams of spring
...

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