I Dream

I dream that I breathe peace 
into everyone to whom I speak,
that my smile unties the knots 
that their frowns have knitted on their faces,
that my eyes emanate warmth,
an antidote to whatever the deadly frost has glaciated,
that my unfettered feet can walk upon water 
like Jesus’,
that my mind accommodates every fragrance 
that flowers and roses exuded,
that my hands can free all the creatures 
imprisoned within cages,
that my ears are attuned to the sighs of leaves 
fluttering to breezes,
to the orbit of stars,
to the mystic rituals of true believers,
to the silent prayers of children, 
to the whispers of souls in a congregation.
 

The Land of Broken Glass

I see everywhere massive amounts of broken glass.
Some are of smashed bottles,
some a symptom of domestic wrath.
I marvel at these splinters that decorate our grass,
our pavements,	
and car wheels like diamond studs.

A rough boy sits on the edge of a cart of trash,
scavenging for little treasures such as morsels of food 
and plastic bags to trade for coins.
I see him contemplate an empty bottle of orange juice,
which he abruptly brings down with a bang,
like a judge pronouncing the irrevocable verdict, 
his eyes dilating with delight
at the dexterity of his hand,.
the startling soundtrack,
and the harmful littering of a pedestrian path.

 
In Enslaved by Civilization

No wonder D.H. Lawrence assimilated the school
to a very elaborate railway system
where tractable, well-behaved boys
are persistently instructed
to adhere to good tracks
until they reach their teens
when into life they are shoved.

The habit of adhering to lines
has already become an ingrained trait
and now the boy is an adult,
he runs on a new set of ways,
a life-long slave
to rails.
 

Free

It is the usual tune I constantly play
as I drive up our very steep mountains,
my father reclining in the front seat,
my German Shepherd, extremely excited.

The labrosones that herald this piece
bring to my father’s eyes joyful tears,
to my dog, an aesthetic hypnosis.

Free is the title that was given
to this unparalleled jazz fusion.
The birds that orchestrate in pine trees
hearken to the interplay of metal and strings
as George Michael and Chris Cameron create
a rapport of concordant resonance.