Dreams
Are like ripe mango slices
On a chipped indigo plate
You notice everything
Juices dripping through the visions in my mind
Central nervous system firing off euphoria
Senses jovial although my body assumes the pose of a statue
Solar power igniting my path
But lunar energy carries me amongst the stars
Nothing is impossible here
The cow that jumped over the moon raced along the Milky Way
In peace is not a word of profanity
Stealing dust from the shooting stars
In an attempt to fly in the afterlife
Where spiritual currency also takes EBT
The music here sounds familiar
Although these words don’t make sense
Using the tail feather of a flaming phoenix
Dipping the tip into golden Ink
To write a masterpiece on papyrus
Fresh spring water and morning dew quench our thirst
Staring into lips the same color is pomegranate juice
Watching as these lips tell me
It’s time to wake up
Hibernation is for bears
But Lions wake at dawn
About the Creator
DonJuan Carter-Woodard
I am a poet. I am a realist. I am the bullhorn in your ear as you sleep urging you to stay woke
Realizes the collective will to change often needs a catalyst to set the wheels of social & cultural evolution in motion.
These are my thoughts
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.