Red Ravens

the ravens were red
afire as they called to me
screams of doubt and rage

I comfort myself
it was but a fevered dream
yet I sleep no more

and still red ravens scream

Dark Dream

on dark unnatural seas sail I
from safe shores lost to memory
hopeless courses under skies
no sextant reads to offer me
safe comfort from the screaming deep
t’would seem as my anointed fate
the storm roars black within my sleep
that only waking may abate
yet dawn comes not to end my plight
from its terrors me to save
so through these ever longing nights
I must these grievous oceans brave

A Stream

is this wooden bridge my dream
or the silver stream it crossed
perhaps the guarding trees in green
watch upon the sleeping lost
who wander down this way of mind
in night-time reveries a glow
for this dreamer seeks to find
that which ancient glades may know.

I wade into unconscious water
far beyond the reasoned world
now complete in slumbers caught
I let this flowing dream unfurl
and hope among my mind’s landscapes
the world of waking be forgot
for this reality of mindscapes
should true paradise allot.

Sketch

the Nile eternal
an ancient dream
endless waves to balm the dark
and rising,
adorned in the golden waters
of its fertility,
Cleopatra rebirthed.

Prophecy

I saw grey angels
draped weeping
upon the scattered bones
and broken stones
of man’s hubris.

They had lost all will to fly,
no glories more to sing
and their sacred tears
brought forth black ivy
to imprison their desolate wings

A Dream

that final night
I’m led into obsidian darkness
by paired Stygian swans
blood red and ashen black
mute in their elegance
cursing the damned
with their grace.

Silhouette

I kissed her naked silhouette
as we lay in distant dreams
loving to a song unheard
beside almost forgotten streams
of our shared unconsciousness
meandering through banks of flowers
that did our two souls’ thoughts caress
throughout those scented sleeping hours

Fragile

fragile was the dream
the breath of a butterfly
upon a dead rose

Falling

I fall
past windows,
icicles
waterfalls of sulphur
I fall
yet have no sense
of time
nor space
in relation
to my place
I fall
through glass
and pass
through mountains
of steel
as a ghost
I fall
endlessly
in all directions
it seems
I fall
through moments
and years, past and gone
yet knowing
the fears
I held
about falling
are not the rocks
that may well
be below
but are the white clouds
from which I fell.

A Note at Three

A dream once more of black horses
riderless and uncontrolled
dragging long the shattered batteries
of that which was my soul