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Dreaming of Dreaming Poetry by Peter E. Williams
by: Tim McCann
Description:
Excerpt
Nuts
Crazy as a cashew.
Unbelievably lucky,
I keep my job,
live alone,
lead a lucky life.
Always the same old job,
17 years of it.
Go nowhere.
Be nobody.
Do nothing.
Sheer luxury.
They got to me.
They drove me
off the deep end.
But I’m lucky
with my label,
and my safe job.
Shame I’m nuts.
Blissful,
lucky,
shame.
Mind Stew
Boil, boil, and
on it stews,
the broth that cooks,
on the stove
that is my mind.
Ideas bob up,
then quickly go.
But some will stay
and add to the
flavour that is
my twisted mind.
(Dedicated to Go the cat)
Early this morning in bed,
I had a very pleasant dream.
I dreamt that I was asleep
on the sofa
with my cat
(that I don’t have anymore)
curled up on my back,
and we were both
warm and happy.
Those types of dreams
are always the best
and I never want
to wake up from them.
But then again…
I’d never get to
see the beautiful day
in store for me.
Piffle the Cat
My cat came to me in a dream last night,
he needed my love and my reassurance
that things would be okay.
His name was Patches,
but he answered to Piffle
and he was a sook and a cuddler.
My cat came to me in a dream last night,
he never deserved to go
the way that he did.
no-one did.
you see, he was killed by vicious dogs
at the front door of his home
He never did learn to fight
only to run
But he wasn’t fast enough that day,
he was getting a little old.
My cat came to me in a dream last night,
I told him I loved him and he told me the same,
for it was twenty years ago
that he was taken away
to the very day.
I love my Mum,
I always do,
always have,
always will.
She’s always joining dots,
but never quite
getting the picture.
So we’re always
drawing those pictures,
Dad and me.
Framing them,
and hanging them
on the walls,
for Mum to see.
I love Mum!
Everybody does.
She’s such a
loving, lovable, caring
and wonderful human being.
God, I love her.
White Space
Here I sit,
at my word pro,
the white space
staring me down,
but not out.
I experiment,
juxtaposing
pseudo-random words
into pretentious,
premeditated
poetry.
Then with an afflatus,
words flow,
whispered by my muse,
into lines and stanzas.
I am not you.
You are not me.
Me, myself and I will get alone just fine.
Fine for that is life.
Life in the suburbs is sedate.
Sedated in the psych. wards.
Wardrobe looks a little bare.
Bare all at the beach.
Merchant Banker
Merchant banker
willie wanker
likes to spank her
can’t thank her
change the lock
adjust the clock
darn my sock
suck my cock
Down in those malls
those super malls
we’ve got mega stores
and we’re making them bigger
1000 times more,
giga stores
NO!!!
make them bigger still
a million times better
more freebees
a million times bigger…
we’ll call them TERASTORES.
$1,000,000,000,000
A million to hate
how many men could I find to hate ???
how many have betrayed me ???
10, 100, 1000
or a million times more
It’s just how you look at it;
’cos if you don’t have the time
or the energy to hate
then you will find true peace
if only you look inside.
I found you
you found me
we corresponded
we fantasized
I gave without questioning
you promised it all
but you delivered nothing
had you really promised without thinking ??...?