elusive dream

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.”   – Martin Luther King, Jr.

 

What happened
to distinctly american
dream

of liberty & justice IMG_4629
for ALL,

equal opportunity
regardless
of race?

What happened
to respect
for human life,

our constitutional
law & order,

non-violent freedom of
speech & assembly?

What happened
to ONE nation

under God?

Wake to dream again!

 

 

 


Quadrille (44 words) for dVerse Poets  where De invites us to dream together!  

udderly bountiful limerick

Linking to Tweetspeak Poetry…scroll to see video showing how butter is made!


 

Introducing a bovine named Daisy

she’s a generous cow, never lazydownload

her milk is a dream

of rich butter cream

she gives away gallons like crazy!

 


If you remember the Borden cow (“Elsie”, not Daisy), you’ll enjoy this online article.

 

hopeful haiga dream

 

Linking as “haiga” (haiku on photo) for CDHK 

2016-01-24-11-45-58_fotor-1 copy

 

but easier on eyes separately as haiku and photo…

 

fresh snow insulates

promise of spring on chinook

dream of birdsong

2016-01-24-11-45-58_fotor-1

photo by Alex Markovich

this is a brain on DMT

My response to poetics by Anthony at dVerse on DMT, or Dimethyltryptamine:

“It’s the most common drug, and also the rarest; our brain secretes the chemical when we go to sleep, and that is what causes us to dream.”

I had recurring nightmares as a child…now most of my bad “mind trips” occur while awake  😉

________

 

cold fear feet

freeze to ground

as hot horde of

mad swordsmen

on war horses

pursue offender

to cliff’s edge

high above surf

pummeling sharp

rocks below;

soft silt crumbles

victim tumbles

falling backwards,

feels salty spray

just before the

shattering

impact—

waking, shaking,

wet with sweat

supine on floor.

 

palpable dark:

glowing eyes,

bristling hairs,

animal breath

on face faking

sleep, flash of

canine teeth

snapping for

exposed jugular;

transform into

one of the pack,

running in the night

howling at the moon

which looms fuller

with body’s lift-off,

swift upward rush

as human rocket

orbits past bright

lunar craters

to free-fall thru

galaxies of stars.

 

lying in bed

wide-eyed and

listening to cellar

door creaking open,

footsteps plodding

deliberately up

basement stairs,

slowly through house and then

another door moans;

heavy footsteps louder

now on stairway

leading to this

attic bedroom—

awaken to sound of

own heart pounding,

lying motionless

wondering if…

it’s waiting.

 

epilogue:

“But I don’t dream!” you say to me.

No dreams at night

may be lack of DMT,

No dreams by day

must be need of poetry!