dreams: imagined oceans.

dreams: imagined oceans.

imagine the oceans to be a dream;
a shrieking, crashing of waves
attempting to hold onto the earth
without being swayed away by death
and time
and decay;
attempting to make the moments last
longer than a flashing second
endlessly passing by
like hands and arms waving goodbye.

we are all children lost;
in the forest
abandoned on an island,
neglected by our governments
whose choices are more influenced
by corporate CEO’s than the voice
of the citizens.

so that
now we all feel like
everyday is spent on a conveyor belt,
and we are all some product
on an assembly line
as we’ve all become so plastic,
docile, and such trained
imbeciles and spectators;
watching online and/or on TV,
and that’s how the company
likes it,
and spends millions on advertisement
and PR on
the industry
of keeping us quiet and in line.


in chicago: notion 19.

notion 19.

so i give you the key,
and you just throw it back at me.
reminding me that i can’t be
free because of dreams.
there is no love we can see hiding
in my sleep. i am secrets, i should keep,
but my love becomes dissolved
because what’s this earth,
and what’s our worth?
who’d be interested in
such a thing
like you or me?

but you are so conceited.


in chicago: notions 5-6.

notion 5.

i am the blues
i have when my breath
starts to choke on the memories.
sometimes, i don’t have time
to say everything i’m thinking.
and is every thought even worth
mentioning? who am i
deceiving? everyone, but me.
nobody, but me
sees the colors i breathe
when i speak of dreams
created while traveling
on other dimensions,
planes of existence
until we’ve become pure.





notion 6.

wash away my heart. it holds too many secrets.
i am the island of regret. so far off,
can’t get back what i lack. the sun just
went black. there’s no way back. no
way back. i need my memories to
return to me from my eyes. i used to
see until i understood everything.
my heart is a broken piece of my
memory and how can i disappear
completely. if only we were wishing
of the dreams one used to be.


individual dreams and planets.

individual dreams and planets.

in an age of sleep deprivation and depression,
night assimilates with dreams,
and retaliates against hopes never aspired.

and angels hide in their exclusive universe,
pretending not to be searching
while wishing on stars for peace,

despite the distance.

cling to dreams:

one shouldn’t speak in tongues, no one uses anymore.