Senseless Dream

One night I slip and fall inside a dream:

Here people sigh, they groan, they shake the trees,

but branches never swing and nothing falls.

Until at last I hear a throbbing scream,

then stars begin to drop like fruits. The breeze 

dissolves, the blood congeals, and roar the squalls.

And then I notice how the senseless lights

are rolling into seas, with grace and ease,

but stay afloat, illuming sleeping dolls

that dream this dream their lonely endless nights—

morn' calls!

Name

My restless feather-picking cockatoo,
Can you tell why denial veils my ire
(In turn cloaking my fears; and those my shame)
And shame's shrouding my rusting grief? But you,
Confined inside a mesh—of metal wire—
Just raise your crest, that sulphur-yellow flame,

Lift up your wings, then start to pace your cell,
And squawk in bursts, as though your bill’s on fire;
My pet, enough! I care for you the same….
Perhaps beneath my grief some geysers spell
Love’s name!