Into Your Brimming Dream

Poem By Rod Mendieta

You are building a shrine
In the depths of a dark forest.
I waste away in a cityscape
Of barking dogs and littered streets.
You dance under the moonlight
And converse with the dwellers
Of the looking-glass house.
I toss about in my sleep
Haunted by the harbingers
Of commonplace doom.
You put your lips on the cold hump
Of a brooding mushroom.
I take another drop of snake oil
And cough my days away
Recycling my own lung-waste.

Dark moths alight
On your heaving breast,
Pallid swords
On my cross-marked chest.

Lost in the rising miasma
Of contradicting resolutions
I light one more torch
And wave desperately
At your dream-image.
Come sing to me,
Throw your golden thread into
The Minotaur's prowling grounds
That I may find my way across
And remember once more
That all crescent-shaped doors
Lead into your brimming dream.

Comments about Into Your Brimming Dream

instead of: Haunted by the harbingers Of commonplace doom. couldn't you SIMPLY write: Haunted by the persons or things that announce or signal the approach Of commonplace doom..? ? i was just thinking today about how NICE it might be to be a DARK MOTH! wouldn't the miasma (another word i 'had to' look up; thanks goodness for Google! !) be rising, not raising in this case? .............hee-hee :) i refuse to look up Ariadne! i am (somewhat) familiar with Arachne. could you please use Arachne? ? in the future, i shall be investigating all crescent-shaped doors i notice. [Is she..............HOT? ] bri ;) was it one of those 'staggering mushrooms' which you ate/smoked before writing this? a bit too fancy for Bri, but well done i guess. :) :) catchy title.


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