lullaby

Why, the man I first mention this to must think I'm crazy.

In fact, you might think I'm crazy too. But each time I walk past a bank

I think what it must be like to rob it. Have all the pretty tellers

lay face down on the floor, some with their ruined pantyhose twisted;

some with their black pumps separated by space.Put all the bills

the soft ones, the ones that have passed thru

a thousand wanting hands; the singles and the fives

with frayed edges that poor mothers gave to the

dope man before they laid on the dirty carpets of

their apartments feeling good and worthless at once.

One day my thoughts will be caught and held in a cell

the size of a postage stamp with a sink made of

the whitest, imaginable  porcelain, with an attached stainless steel

commode that you can pass secrets thru (after you flush it

dry) to your gay lover on a different floor, who too had

no other choice but to rob and write about it. What if we

could name the people in our dreams before they happened?

Drag out the forlorn events in spy speak, in that

Underdog language where only you and one other person

knows the code before it happens. Like turning your

iron furniture into faux furs, then jumping out of a speeding

airplane with the loot.

They never found the bones of cb cooper, which means, he got away.

Which also means that those few dollars they found by the sea

those he gave over to fire and altazimuth

goodness was worth it. Then writing a poem in his dream,

the poem that turns your soul, invisible.

Reviews

[emmajoy]

' What if we could name the people in our dreams before they happened?'

What if we could travel through thought and deed understanding what we never will - whatever the scientists and shrinks say! The human mind is controller and dreamer, same time, one the leader and other follower or is it vice versa - varies!

The mind does what it will with what the jolly old brain stores or ignores. Once read about a group of people standing outside a bank watching robbers escape into a car.. Each person within group was asked for descriptions, happenings.. and, each gave different or varying opinions and such. They each had weaknesses and strengths.. they saw whatever... and that is how it is.. the mind. The Mind is mine, yours, it is its own robber.. and even gives to the poor at times.. whenever.

Good grief, where did all that come from, dana. Is how I gobbled your feast and regurgitated the lot.. in my way. You do that every time..

[h d e rushin]

I became the sole caregiver for my mother with dementia......I write more poems in my head than I can rush to transfer to my laptop....But I continue to think it....Thanks my love for believing in me......dana

[emmajoy]

Dear you. so many of us believe in you - surely you know that. A friend once said of her darling mum, also suffering the slings and arrows of dementia, '... of course I love her to bits, but. I so wish I could have my other mum back. ' Hit home, made me understand what I thought I already knew. Wrong. We can't ever stop learning, can we, dana.

[Carol Cashes]

First you rob a bank, and then you tell us where the money has been: "the ones that have passed thru a thousand wanting hands; the singles and the fives with frayed edges that poor mothers gave to the dope man before they laid on the dirty carpets of their apartments feeling good and worthless at once." Unique take...on the take. I liked this. Well done.

[Ken Simm.]

We go to the places in our minds. but we mortals cannot articulate what experiences we have there. If I said that you were the epitome of a creative it would be no exaggeration. It would be the simple truth.

[Corset]

lol, My sister and I had dreams like this, in my early twenties, back when you could cash a check without having it ran through an automated balance checker,
we joked about how easy it was to cash a check and that we should go from city to city like Thelma and Louise, hit every grocer we could find and then retire across the border...lol, of course we never did that, but it was a cool to dream on the road trips to Colorado...what we would do with all that money :P Its ok to dream, I think, I hope, to want what you don't have, can't have. Hurt me, beat me make me write hot checks...I love it.

[h d e rushin]

thank you my love....thanks for speaking out loud of the dreams we share...dana

[Cory Barrett]

I envy the poems and ideas that others might find crazy. If we can write with abandonment, well then we should. If we can write the poem about our father or mother or lover, and not be concerned with the backdraft.... either to be a poet with no return, or an unemphatic a*s! I guess its safer to stick to the dream. Reality will keep us awake at night.

[h d e rushin]

since I became the primary care give to an alzheimers mother, it is increasing difficult to understand where truth and reality begins and where disbelief and ghosts leave off. She wakes and asks for her brother who died 40 years ago....so I have started to believe that people exist who I have never met. The dreams of others can rise up and f**k with you like that.....thank you again dear brother for remembering me.......dana

[jacob erin-cilberto]

oh i love this...no, they never did find his bones...and if we rob those banks just in our dreams, they won't find ours either after we jump out of the plane.
sometimes i look over the ledge of a tall building and see myself jumping...an illusion? a fantasy?
a dream?
a wish?

i don't know which...but i should probably rob the bank first.

[h d e rushin]

thank you brother if I missed this review...........thanks for being you......dana