dreams, on the beach at night…

dreams, on the beach at night…

‘on lucid shore’

a parade at night
under waves
of moon light
on this
this feral equinox;
distant shore
a subtle roar
of diamonds
shimmers… (in the light)

the breeze
a tease
slides over hands
cold sand
insulates feet
toes dig in
underneath
shadows dance
a slow sway
back and forth
a hypnotic stray,
I have found this place
to stay lost
as long as might
my grace

my sleep
with eyes open

on this beach
of or in
-my dreams…

notes…. I imagine a Cast Away scenario… of course without some other guy from Sex in the City sleeping with my Helen Hunt (especially at that time, although she still looks great especially in the movie “The Sessions” (great flick if you have not seen it) ), I just love the idea of being alone on some far flung beach with no one in sight, at night, in the tropics.. I have had this experience, or a close proximity of same, a couple of times when I was in the Florida Keys, alone on a beach, just me, the waves, the clouds, distant lightning lighting up the scene, I felt alone but part of the whole thing, fulfilled, I can not tell you how I miss that feeling, it was like I was part of the molecules of the ocean, as storm clouds came in, in formations, like floating city-nations, the tropics are like that, thunder storms are very localized mostly, cells you can see and track, rain on one side of the street and not the other… I always go back to that, that peace, that moment, a passing moment as all are, I wish I could describe it better to you, the water glistens and smiles, and literally shimmers, the sound of the waves becomes your own heartbeat by proxy, they flow as one, for a moment, under the sun reflecting off the moon, bent light that gives life, even at night, the barely hanging on palms that look like you could poke them over with a finger, bent over the horizon, leaves provide some strange shadows like stripes of a tiger, but nothing is fear, there is just being, I wish I could capture that… and share that… to all, and most of all to myself, but just the recall now… does help… and I remember.

moonlit drive…

moonlit drive…

“might I walk you to the moon tonight?”
and whom am I talking to?
myself, that inner voice, speaking right now actually
but to what audience?
just the inner auditorium made for one? perhaps
often right, there is ecstasy in the ordinary
driving home, typical highway
night has been looming sooner, as she does in fall
how soon we forget, and then just accept
so distraction can be a slide into the dreaming world
“may I describe the moon tonight?”
or more simply the sky, more a scene
like flying over a silent desert,
after a day of scorching infernos downward, blinds eye
now resting, under the gracious umbrella of night
as the lamp lens intense set

the landscape can sigh
as majestic purples multiply
and mate, with curtains of magenta
forming layers, like tourist sand in bottles
the colors inhabit the boundary
impregnating the horizon with splendor
until full surrender, inhabits
my focus is trained only on that above the horizon
not the wheel in my hand, the artificial lighting,
the concrete cells and paved grounds
the reality that surrounds, softens as I fly above into the night
I imagine laying prone, only to peer upwards now
the moon, but a quicksilver-sliver, a wink,
not a quarter full, just a peeking-boo
a november moon
as cold as the
waning light
there to bear witness, through the night
and I feel I can hang a hammock there
from star to star
under that silent tide
on this ride
and so I might.

notes… I found this on my desktop temp folder, forgot to post it when I wrote it back in November… so strange, these things are almost like children to me and I would have sworn I posted it… but I looked back and had not (but soooo recall the creation)… one of those I wrote driving home at night, the muse sweeps in, sweeps away the banal, plants a seed, I try to be the good farmer and raise the idea as my own… that’s all I know… does it work? I suppose you are the last word on that. Do you dream of flying off into the moon when stuck in traffic? (and should I tell people to play the song before reading the post? hmmm… I am willing to take suggestions on that one, I always thought it was obvious.. which it isn’t I guess, the rule is not always a rule, savy ?) … and your time, thoughts and likes are greatly appreciated, have something you want me to check out ? say it… I’m not a mind reader…

my island…

my island…

Photo by Asad Photo Maldives on Pexels.com

may I stay
and sway
forever, in the lands beyond
like a frond
of a perfect palm
hand drawn

stark outline
in the setting sun,
shadow on sand
dancing,
to the gentle song
of the waves
sliding,
into the shore.

notes… if, no when, I go to sleep, for in this life, I wish to be on the shore, water is the force of life, and I want to be at that shore for all time, if I can be, or least that is my dream… I hope this work conveys that sentiment, for it is my sentiment before I become sediment for I will… all my love, all my consciousness will be transferred to that, that golden shore, of my dreams, and so will I be, for the immediate eternity, a dream along the beach, so I hope, so I dream….