To the Sway
by ryan storm
Posted to Poetry on 2002-06-12 21:53:00
To the Sway
When I’m dreaming of dreaming
I see hard boiled bearded faces
deep within an Alaskan mist
Their celestial prairies of century long eras
Eros to Eros!
Goodbye to Goodbye!
Dawn rings the eve anew
Trap door airplanes evaporate into karamu mittens
and empty bus rides through midnight terrain
-flee in flight on the dew of draught dreams
Hoorah Sleep!
Herald the heralding mice asleep in Tokyo!
Lullaby’s in B sharp
sung by postmen milkmen and ye butcher’s wife
to the accordions pitch of an epic opus
All dreams
My nightly parched journeys
are held softly in the moonlight clutch
surveying new maps of prehistoric canvas worlds
and it’s off to Brussels
-Brussels, yes, I know without keys-
The Patheon dream
shortcakes and bumblebee vowels
I have known god in a deserted pair of high heels
an orgasm amongst the choiring locus#
Birth Byzantine Death
and the gentle touch of spirits to my feet
Their firefly names scream:
‘Remember me in an open blouse!
All our rabid harmony in your dreams to come!
Fear not thyself
when the mirror retreats
when the Wimbledon opus crescendos to
maddening depths and sparkles
cavalries and bent handlebar smiles!’
It is a monocular trick of disappearance
-by the velveteen blood
of a magician’s eye
by colloquial nerve shells
in calculator parlors
and salons of grace
These dreams are greased!
-by the Eskimo fables of electric children
by the collapsible death of a grandchild
by the mice heralding his cold cold night
atop a cracked eggshell
In the Pineal swirl
the Sun attending it’s course
the motioning motor of night’s arrival
knows we’ll meet again soon
In northern dreams
foglions
and sapodilla parades
ryan storm