Helter Skelter

photo credit: blazerowner Star Tunnel via photopin (license)

photo credit: blazerowner Star Tunnel via photopin (license)

A sudden moment,
This restless heart twists
Blown by emotion.
We begin again

This lover’s leap,
Over and over
This restless sleep.
I dream of you again.
 
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Shapes in the Trees

photo credit: ®DS Fading Lines via photopin (license)

photo credit: ®DS Fading Lines via photopin (license)

All just faces amongst the trees.
These illusions we don’t want to believe.
The madness and violence of dreams –
Insomniac visions, streetlight projection on walls,
Winter winds stirring the childhood bogeyman to life again.
Night flights, fever and tears, evils that breed in my mind.
 
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Siren Blue (Dreams)

photo credit: bdrc 宋凝 via photopin (license)

photo credit: bdrc 宋凝 via photopin (license)

I can’t remember what it is,
This ocean of memory
In which I’ve got lost.
A natural phenomena,
Drifting, flying, falling, dying.
I’m a stranger in this kingdom
So far from home.

I can’t see a solution,
A way out
Of this maze of confusion.
This song of the stratosphere:
Drowning, crying, calling, dying.
Dream keeper of this kingdom
I can’t call home.
 
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Hypnosis

photo credit: abstrusa Cleopatra via photopin (license)

photo credit: abstrusa Cleopatra via photopin (license)

The shadow of the trees is now behind you
And you see the shimmering waters clearly
For the first time.
But you know this is a dream
Within a dream. For she is there again,
Out there on the azure blue,
A sailboat under her command.
Crewmen scurry on the golden ship,
Hither and thither as she demands.
Like Cleopatra she stands serene
With chaos all around. Beatified,
Bejewelled, Queen of this moment – but a dream,
No more. Just a phantom that will disappear
When day breaks and you dream no more.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Out of Body

Day 25 of the review and a poem about dreams and eternity…

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: ronde des fées via photopin (license) photo credit: ronde des fées via photopin(license)

I lay on the grass
Looking up at the night sky.
Cut adrift
From earthly worries and concerns
On this summer night.
Time
Has no meaning,
My body
Has no substance,
Only feeling.

Drugged by the moment,
The beating heart of the earth
Pressed up close, embracing me.
Like a lover,
While an arch, a canopy of stars
Offers a window,
A glimpse,
Into eternity.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Weary

Day 5 of my annual review, and another piece about age…

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: And Now for Something Completely Different via photopin (license) photo credit: And Now for Something Completely Different via photopin(license)

The man put down his newspaper.
His eyes were not what they once had been,
They had seen too much
Of war and hate, and change.
So he closed his eyes to shut out the dark
And slept right there in his old armchair for a while.
He dreamed of when he was younger;
He dreamt of all of his firsts,
First kiss, first dance, first nights.
Always the first and never the last,
For in his dreams
He wasn’t chained within a body that creaked.
His world was not bound by those four familiar walls
And the good times would come back and greet him.
Because in his life there had been many good times;
There had been joy, he’d known love, he’d known laughter.
For the lights of his memory might dim
But they’d never go out.

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Clean undies

Day 19

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: 2011Aug26UnderpantsRun 013 via photopin (license) photo credit: 2011Aug26UnderpantsRun 013 via photopin(license)

I’ll be the hero and get the girl.
I’ll be Superman without the cape.
I’ll be a rock star without the habit.
If this comes off, Oh man
I’ll be Hendrix, the Beatles and the Stones.
I’ll reform the band!
I’ll be Branson without the beard.
I’ll be Elvis before the Vegas years.
It’ll be like that fabled pot of gold
Falling from the sky
And landing on my head.
It’ll be like all the dreams
I have ever wished for coming true.
If I could only have my cake and eat it
I would be away
Showing just a clean pair of heels.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Rings

The hooped rings of the pattern on your dress
Encircle your body, hold you close,
As I dream at night my arms will do, one day.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

The scream

I hear silent voices
Speaking in languages
I don’t even know.

The disembodied reach out
Holding the stillness
Crushing its petals.

Running down the aisles
They despoil the chapel
That once housed my dreams.

While the hollow eyed sentinel
Extinguishes the last flame
Beneath its granite feet.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Clean undies

I’ll be the hero and get the girl.
I’ll be Superman without the cape.
I’ll be a rock star without the habit.
If this comes off, Oh man
I’ll be Hendrix, the Beatles and the Stones.
I’ll reform the band!
I’ll be Branson without the beard.
I’ll be Elvis before the Vegas years.
It’ll be like that fabled pot of gold
Falling from the sky
And landing on my head.
It’ll be like all the dreams
I have ever wished for coming true.
If I could only have my cake and eat it
I would be away
Showing just a clean pair of heels.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.