The Night

a lion’s eye had opened
and gazed within my very heart
hungry for emotions
that my soul imparted
within this dream I made
menageries of terrors wait
from the forest I had laid
their appetites for dreams to sate
a bloodlust of my reveries
did my sleeping soul a fright
and upon my heart’s unease
did they smile lustful delights
thus did my sleeping thoughts then pray
for salvation in the light
of the singing breaking day
to rescue me from beasts of night.

The Demon Dreams

#1 : Scarlet Whispers

this scarlet whisper
her eyes black with lust
hypnotises my flesh
with a voice unheard
yet unable to resist
which takes hold of my heart
and steels my passion
with tumescent desires
to be driven deep
at her command.

Awaken

a sigh in the night
I had upon such lips a dream
they whispered ‘awaken’
and this dream was no more
yet it was not lost
behind locked doors
of forgotten memory
for in my morning silence
again the sigh would come to me
and its lips whisper ‘awaken’

Wall

‘Madman’ said the dream
written large on every wall
paint staining my hands

Worms (the last poems : V)

when dreams are over
what remains behind closed eyes
only the worms know

Dream Prelude

pianos dance
they mock me
with their broken smiles
hammering home
discordant laughter
echoes from half dreams
of melodic ocean’s
that bring no rest
despite the seagulls
in the quarter note

False Embrace

I forsake my dreams
for theirs is a false embrace
devoid of the flesh

The Smoke of Dreams

I watch the lantern flicker
as death comes to the light
from candle wax the smoke of dreams
fills up the waiting night
for empty is the darkness
until sweet fantasies
replace my waking daylight thoughts
with unfettered reveries.

À MOITIÉ MORT

in the half death
I had lines
profound rhymes
in the half death

in the half death
the world burned
my thoughts turned
in the half death

in the half death
monsters came
exposed my pain
in the half death

in the half death
my mind would break
and so i’d wake
from the half death

into half life.

The Final Sleep

these last dreams to death do yield
across sweet perfumed poppy fields
to Elysium’s truth are blessed
and in its wildflowers find their rest
yet do not mourn or sage flowers burn
for at the ending days still turn
and resurrect fresh reveries
of new last dreams the nights to ease.