Sleep, perchance to dream!

If a dream is only
the mind’s way of staying busy
while the body rests,
then let me entertain myself
with thoughts of duvets
and pillows, the simple luxury
of laying my day down
on a shower of fresh cotton.

And if you tell me that dreams
are the subconscious voice
taking the chance to speak up
while everything else sleeps,
let me tell you then that I must have
a king-sized ego, memory foam id,
and that sleep is my default
critical thought function.

Follow You

You have one picture
and a tiny block of words
to convince me to follow you.

Certainly, I have triggers.
Might you stumble upon these,
I could become

your sycophantic servant,
an admiring aficionado,
fanatical fan,

the most dedicated devotee
you could ever want
from an electronic stranger.

But, what worth am I to you?
In the game of sheep and shepherds,
everyone’s fleece is up for judgement.

Gourmandising

If you have bitten off
more than you can chew
then stick your knife
and fork into your mouth
to butcher the gluttony
residing inside of you.

While you are at it,
you can cut off your nose,
stab through the eyes,
raise the knife and go
one better than Van Gogh,
abandon all senses.

For what good is appetite
if it can’t be satisfied?
Let us choke! Let us boke!
Or might we just spit out our pride?

Scroll down the page

and push further whiteness into being.
Pray not you backspace and delete;
oh, never delete, child,
because words alone are never mistakes,
only miscommunicated,
built up and misguided
by our fallible vernacular of being.

Our tongues are tied
to whistles and bells,
but somewhere inside our diction,
we hold that ecstatic experience
where words become ritual
and thoughts break from clay
to transform and cultivate worlds.