Archive for dreams

A Disconnected Vagary

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 6, 2019 by dc

I went looking for jeans and a jumper
And left the house wearing a dress,

The wind was sour and soft,
Like an embarrassed stranger’s cough,

A disconnected vagary
Hanging on a reverie;

They’d left all known communications dead,
Tired entrepreneurs dished out scribbled notes to plebs,

Entertainers traded pseudonyms like sex,
A mess from stress and kind regards,

Old errors on unmanned, spent radars,
Charred symbols in the parks

And satellites crying from the sky.

It was left to a dazed woman in a torn jumpsuit
To unexplain what had got us all here,

Teary eyed, numb with shock and afraid
Like an old dancehall where the songs stutter then fade,

A mess of washing left out in the rain,
Unlit bonfires and sacks of wet grain,

She sobbed words into a cloud,
All epithets and growls,

And ruined the rest of my day.


Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on January 23, 2019 by dc

A reverie of solar flares
And magnetic storms,

High-energy particles
Colluding to glue
A long scattered past,

All improvised deliriums
And runaway conclusions,

Horizontal auroras
Dissipating through heart beats,

Broken power grids
Sparking crazed alien rain,

Wayward transmissions
All wild and berserk,
Drifting across the ionosphere;

Inhaling gentle
Geomagnetic disturbances,

The dawn puppeting stupors,
Groaning for semblance,

As therapy fades.

The New Goodbye

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on November 5, 2012 by dc

Chords of discontentment,
Inconsequential mayhem
And the sweet scented sweat
Of memories reborn.

It was the last night,
The new goodbye,
We improvised badly on stage,
Spat questions and stumbled
Like strangers adored
Drowning sadness,

Old friends laughed
In the corner,
The dead hummed
Their approval
And the city sank
Knee deep
In storm water.

The last note rang loud,
Like a new full stop,
It grew with the wind
And rumbled the beams,
Stealing our breath
And approving our dreams

One by one.

(I Am Almost Asleep)

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on March 2, 2009 by dc

The creak of wood,
The groaning waves
Of muffled creeping,
The shades of gothic doom,

Something’s at my door,
my bedroom door
(I am almost asleep).

I can hear the gentle hiss
Of a dying microphone,
The pant of a hungry guard dog,
The quiet violence of humming,

The voices of children
Running across foggy moors,
Whistles skirting the grass
As one of them falls.

I feel the fear
And the longing to melt
into camoflaged dreams,

Something’s at my door,
My bedroom door
(I am almost asleep).


Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on June 29, 2008 by dc

There it lay
At 2pm
On a Sunday
The withering balloon,

Creeping along
At 3pm,
Hissing out
It’s helium soul
Through a fingered hole.

Wheezing still
At 4pm,
It lasted well,
Far too well,
The dead rubber shell.

Wrinkled flat
At 5pm,
Pity and pain,
No longer a game.

The balloon,
A picture of childhood innocence,
A picture of simplified love,
Now lies flapping,

But my dreams
Still walk behind you
Silently smelling
Your fresh perfume trail.