If it wasn’t for gravity, I’d fall…

True Gravity

I was awakened from a dream,
a dream about me – they’re always
about me it seems as the axis
of the world is under my feet,
all eyes turn to me, all words
are said for me as if pulled by
my gravity, and yet I never speak,
never a word, as space shrinks
close and closer, faces approach,
the ground and sky too come
to me, and just as it is all to be
enveloped in me as a fold
I wake, and I speak but no one
hears me, the sky opens forever
and forever away, familiar
faces withdraw, turning
carelessly, no calling stops them,
no motion halts the sky, I’m
being spun by the pull of true
gravity and lean back into
myself just to keep from falling.

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The clothes angels wear…

The Clothes Angels Wear
I dream of children walking up and down stairs,
up and down, up and down, in brightly colored
clothes, deliberately and unlike the way they
do when on stairs, but it’s not a dream at all;

when Jacob dreamed his dream of angels on
a ladder ascending and descending to heaven,
not from heaven as I’d expect, he thought
nothing at all – no decoding repressions, no,
he wrestled an angel and lived, dreamless;

the couch tells us they’re divine messengers
and always from above where they live
because we incurably desire a god, a message
we call truth, but it’s all wrong because
they’re just like us, always from below
climbing up and down; then the children stop,

then the children stop,
and laugh out loud, the bright colors of the
clothes we dress them in melt together
like rain is washing away a disguise, melting
into earth’s brown–dark, so dark it’s blinding,
they lift their eyes up into the nothing and grin
in a pure gratitude which embarrasses me;

and when I look down at my own clothing it’s
bright and colorful and new; if this is a delusion
I can’t explain it because I don’t want to.

If I could dream I would…

When I dream, it’s about dreaming.

 

They Say If You Dream

Escaping what is, and therefore
what’s painful, is what dreaming
                                    is for.

Not day-dreaming, but submersing
yourself with the goal of never coming
                                    back

 which may lead to slipping into that world,
   the alternative of someone’s making,
                                                forever;

 where things are different and that’s
all that matters – whether out of
                        boredom or

shyness or fear or pain (but pain
usually wins in the end), or blindness
                                                to life;

   they say if you dream, 

maybe this can happen, but it never has,
   not by trying, not by praying, not in
                                    my lifetime.

 

My Gravity

I was awakened from a dream,
a dream about me – they’re always
about me it seems as the axis
of the world is under my feet,
all eyes turn to me, all words
are said for me as if pulled by
my gravity, and yet I never speak,
never a word, as space shrinks
close and closer, faces approach,
the ground and sky too come
to me, and just as it is all to be
enveloped in me as a fold
I wake, and I speak but no one
hears me, the sky opens forever
and forever away, familiar
faces withdraw, turning
carelessly, no calling stops them,
no motion halts the sky, I’m
being spun by the pull of true
gravity and lean back into
myself just to keep from falling.