Alone to Dream (day 1872)

Alone is what to be would be
If I were out at sea
Amidst the waves and blowing wind
Setting my sails aglow.
Alone is what the songs would sing
Should I not hear your voice
That sang about morning chores,
Music to my ears.
But alone amidst the evening’s set
Should never find me awake
For dreams take me floating away
With ten friends upon adventure.

Dreamland (day 1866)

I woke into a space
I could not call time
Magical fires burned
And mushrooms grew
Below thick layers of dewy moss.
I, the explorer,
The harvester of what could be
Looked upon the land
As opportunity to
Let loose all dear things
Go as I could plan.
Here the gold
Of my mind
Could leach its way about
As if a blooming grape
Growing up
Out of a four year and scored stem.

Exist Between (day 1861)

Where is this spot that exists between dream and reality
The viscerally imaginative soft stuff
That shakes shaggy ground free of complaints
And sunsets clear morning’s dew
From cobwebs shining as if testing new approaches
To similar corners, similar filters, similar dreams
That sit still and recoil while inhale meets exhale
And spring meets autumn
And one meets two
And a shoe gets worn through by impermanence of space
That’s always been growing up and chopped down
And eaten and fed and counted and weighed
And slotted into a spreadsheet marked with scales
Ranging from zero to ten with a save button
That creates multiple redundancies.
When the only request is for a tiny piece of convenience
For just one moment.
And in a flash,
With feet firmly planted securely on uneven ground
And hands held out in wide Namaskar to this beautiful world
A little droplet of rain shall fall perfectly
Upon a freckled upturned nose holding thoughts
Of a sunny day and all the rays of life shall shine down
In abundant warmth like a ticking clock
Chiming in at every quarter hour.

Exist Between by Ned Tobin

Dreaming (day 1810)

You don’t understand the envelope of my heart
You never did.
You grabbed hold
Of little pieces
I had never used before.
That held me dreaming
Because I am a dreamer
Dreaming my damnedest truths.
Buy your grabbing on to,
Was your dreaming of, too;
I, wild as beasts held
Flickering of hope
On the heaviest and darkest of nights
Finding cold love
In the season of heat.

Be My Lover (day 1805)

Why can’t you be my lover?
Why cant skies call us
Hand in hand
On a lazy Sunday
From beneath checkered sheets
And last nights crumbs?
Why can’t your body tangle
Wrap the heart of my smile
So tightly in a slow gaze kind of way?
Why can’t a sidewalk be
Our waltz through a park
Hand in hand and stopping
To watch two swans bathe themselves?
Why can’t our tub be lit by candles
With a glass of wine to share
From a lazy notebook dream
On a midnight kind of Saturday?
Why can’t our every day
Hold our dreams just so,
Where routine is charming and light
And the tips of your fingers
Remind me of the frost on morning’s flowers?
Why can’t we share memories,
In a caravan of love?

Dreamy Eyes (day 1800)

Dear dreamy eyes
Lay your dreams upon my eyes
Let wind remind our bright hearts
To reach out
And wiggle against each other,
Let sparkle attract my mind
Into another dimension
To implode my feelings
Like starlight upon a hiccup
And your lingering touch
That reaches my toes.

Dusty Old Artifacts (day 1748)

I believed just so strongly that you would be the one
So much so that I chairiscuro’d my heart into day and night,
Night and day.
So longing with my open arms I stood uninterested,
Drooping at edges of my sanity
That left holes so deeply imprinted into my unknown matter
I had successfully reprinted what I’d callously called
“Out of Stock.”
Now? Now I would like to re-brand my interests,
Remove all the old artifacts that so delicately had collected
Dusty particles of my memory,
And remind myself how little it mattered in the end –
Dust being all that could sprinkle our dearest dreams –
As raindrops came tumbling down upon a rainbow I’d ignited.
So my desert teardrops exclaimed to my heartbeat, strong,
Oh this desperado desolato,
In an anguish that I could not anticipate…
Because spring had not yet sprung.

Unnecessary Badges (day 1699)

I have begun to soften unnecessary badges of my heart,
Little lines that string my thoughts together
And bury desires and dreams into unnecessary angles.
World keeps turning and I’m crouching down,
Closing my eyes and embracing an uncertainty, insanity,
That’s lost sense in my sturdy hands.
My unnecessary badges and I have lost you –
Which isn’t going to change the moon or sun,
Which isn’t going to flutter my heart any more.
So I carried this unnecessary badge in my pocket,
Two white squares and one measured and cast circle.
Pulling upon corners of a my little lines,
And tangling my dreams because I love you.

Unnecessary Badges by Ned Tobin