dreams

Free

I look into your eyes

I saw whimsical

I saw irradiating

A Uncontrollable, Mesmerizing lost world

Spilling into beautiful pools of life

Flooding sensuality

Sparked my life

Enlightened

Drunk off an angels spirit

I felt as so many

I became one of the few

Mingled with space    

I twisted time

Unattainable  

Cradled under the arms of the galaxy

Thrown out into a dream

Born with existence

Captured in a single breath

Dissipate to nothing

I became nothing

Sweet nothing


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WAKE ME NOT



The moment slumber gives way to the beckoning embrace of heavens light, I cry to thee;

Stop!

Do not rob me of my enchanted dreams!

Leave me in my tranquil moments of midnight bliss, where divine pleasures hold me intensely with my imagined lovers kiss.

Lift not these swollen comforters from my eyes to gaze upon a day that holds for me only empty moments, empty arms,

and an empty heart.

Allow me to stay just a moment longer within my nocturnal utopia, where I am free to dance and sing to the rhythmn of

my own inner drummer.

Where, in passionate moments of a twilight tryst my heart and my arms do hold a copious harvest born from the seeds I have sown, through the fields of my own insatiable imagination.









Copyright : 1996

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Dreams

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Dreams

In our dreams

We find many things

Hopes of what

Tomorrow will bring

Past lives

Lovers lost

We always yearn

Yet our bodies are on pause



01-03-03

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Us

Folder: 
Dreams

Don't want you to lead

Don't want you to follow

Just want you by my side

For all our tomorrows



01-03-02

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"Dream Before the Slumber"

by Jeph Johnson

(the final poem of 2001) 

 

she said
I should jot down
everything
recalled from my dream
before the slumber
when I woke up
the morning before
new year's eve
the year we met
in my chair
soaken wet
with tears

"everything?"

groggy and grabbing
the easy-flow pen
she'd presented me
for such endeavors
I wrote
while I rode
in my mind
her roller coaster curves
and loops of elation,
and summits of despair,
and plummets of masturbation
and her long long strands of hair
I wanted to stay dreaming
but wanted to slow down,
watching with awe
above this cold and rainy town.
the blinds were thrown wide
open in my dream
to more urban noise
chugging back and forth
at night
to the heart of the city
via these capillaries
but not this eve
of the year we met
she even smells happy
and smiles like a violet
while her eyes explode
into a dark forbidden place
illuminating heaven
with a spotlight
it's almost again
the rush hour
please, more visual stimulation
more garbage pails
at rush hour
where blasting eyes are blinded
in the commute
by sunlight through the clouds
where accidents
on the westside
over breakfast
and on the eastside
during dinner
continue even now
I find I've flown completely
off the track
and looking back
I see from beyond the clouds
the voodoo doll map
on my wall
where we kept sticking
pins and buttons in
there's supposed to be
some silver lining
but this sun keeps projecting
a cursed golden shiny
matinee idol hue
not preferred around
your neck as a noose
or perfumed around
my neck like a bruise
strangling contentment
shackled to my wrists
hindered happiness
between the face of fulfillment,
gratification grinds to a halt,
sanctioning satisfaction and serenity
while taking bliss to the brink
it's my fault my dream continues
after the slumber
while my easy-flow pen
runs out of ink
before the clock strikes midnight
it remains groggy and unclear
I still have more to write
but it will be written next year

Author's Notes/Comments: 

for Twilla, 2001 

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Thoughts

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Darkness





As I sit gazing into

the bright crimson, and tangerine,  

of the flames.

I feel its warmth its strength.



Bordered by the blue gray assorted stones,

stolen from the murky waters edge.

To encircle the fire and hold it bound.



I am carried back through time

on the eagle’s wings to a place,

I do not know,

but I feel as if I have come home.



  The faces, the smiles,  

the sights are all familiar,

as well as the smells

of the fresh kill

slowly roasting on the spit.



It’s tangy juices,

Provoking the fire to life.

The color of the leaves,

the textures of the fabrics

are not new to me at all.

When was I here?




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Dreams

Folder: 
Darkness



Little messages

Very vague

Fast images

Hidden memories

Fears

Joys

What

Trying to tell me

Trying to help me

It’s a puzzle

Do I have all the pieces?

Help me

to put it all together

Solve the secrets

and riddles

of this puzzle

or must I

forever be caught up

in this blurry prison

of clues?


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REMEMBER

I remember you -

       I've met you once before;

You came to me in a dream

       with a feeling I couldn't ignore.



I remember you -

       You showed me how to smile;

And after you were done

       you sang "I'll be back after while"



I remember you -

       You made me feel renewed

You brought me laughter easily

       and chased away my blues.



Do you remember me?

       We met once in my dream.

You said I'd find you when it's right,

       and then you'd never leave.

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Dreaming

When I dream a dream alone, I dream that I'm a

Cloud.

Of floating freely, without a care above the grounded

Crowd.

Sometimes as low as densest fog, sometimes as high as

Space.

Sometimes as big as elephants in imagination's

Place.

Sometimes as quiet as thinnest souls when sunrise is

Begun.

Or laughing hearty thunderclaps as I cover up the

Sun.



When I dream a dream sometimes a mountain I

Become.

And I listen to the crashing waves as against my feet they

Drum.

Like my crown, a lighthouse shines out into the

Sea.

And bobbing ships warily drift in awe and fear of

Me.

Sometimes as serene as silent thoughts while my snowcaps glisten like

Pearls.

Sometimes I scream in volcanic rage and cover up your

World.



When I dream a dream alone I dream that I'm the

Wind.

And run along gold painted hills to make the grasses

Bend.

Carefree I make the windmills turn, and make the sailboats

Fly.

Sometimes in summer's humid mood, I make the tortured

Sigh.

Sometimes as gentle as butterflies I light across your

Skin.

Sometimes as the very finger of God, I descend...

Violent Wind.



When I dream a dream alone, mute passions become

Loud.

So look at me in wonderment, and know that I'm a

Cloud.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This poem is for anyone who has taken a nap under warm summer skies and just dreamt.

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