Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Build Me...The Dreamer's Prayer

Build Me a happy place, from which I'll never have to leave


I still can imagine Eden, green leaves and trees

Build me a Dream that I never have to awake from

safe in a fleshy hold, nightmares locked outside the doors

Build me a boat that floats outside on the water

just for me, float me from the lake to the river

down waterfalls to the sea

Build me a verse without "alas" place my ilk next to Shakespeare

I don't need the fame, I just want you to HEAR

Build me a castle with the warmth of a cottage

a better mousetrap, a legacy that deserves homage

build me a job I'm in love with

build me a love I can deal with

build me a heart with a teflon cover

but the veins run thru, and

to the true, it's uncovered

Build me a Truth that's not immersed in lies

im tired of trying to decipher shifty eyes

Build me a guitar with strings gilt of gold

with magical ballads that reminisce on their own

build me a song that makes the World reel on it's axis

Build me a story that I'm not afraid to relate

Build me a treehouse that sits on Olympus

Where I can sit and converse with Midas about not being Tempted

Build me Forever, in the eyes of Jah

Build me an Hourglass where the sands Loop in the jar

Build me a peace

or just a piece of peace

or a piece of peace of mind

Build Me


The Pen Ran dry, only Etching deep Crying lines of Blankness on the paper,

the voices started Moaning again, the Faces push thru the walls

the Sweat smells like Sea Salt, Dripping from my face, Wash my face in Blue Seawater

Look in the mirror

Short Dreads writhing like Snakes, Water dripping from my face has turned Red

Congealing Like Blood

the Paper screaming for retribution, Trees and Brush with crows in their Boughs

Spring up into my living Room, I fall into 4-foot mud Pits

on my way to the Paper, Climb out, I'm nearly Screaming for a Release

Grab the knife discarded onto the kitchen floor, "don't do it", they say, knife to Wrist

the Pain is more like a Burn, the ink spills from my Wrist like blood, easily forming

Legible Script on the Page

It flows without Reason, Without Remorse, it Dries instantly, the trip is Over,

I dry Heave

Next Morning

Awake in a pile of my Own Words