OTHER THAN MY OWN        

     
as moon holds          
no ambition          
in reflecting          
sunlight s rays          
so too dreams          
erase all reason          
till nights          
consumed by day          
i too have          
long held thoughts          
that continue          
to eat away          
at the larger          
collective dream          
which nearly all          
mankind believes in          
without question          
without ever seeing          
the greater          
blind          
pre conditioned faith          
in everything          
that everyone          
has ever been told          
to unquestionably          
believe in          
which creates          
the very fabric          
of this interconnected          
inter clashing world s       
vast          
tight tangled weave  
of suffocating          
surface lies          
only a dream          
all dream          
together and alone          
though most          
still sadly seem          
to be so          
unconsciously sleeping          
so apathetically          
unawakened          
even when awake          
to ever see          
feel or sense          
the subtle energies          
of such          
extra dimensional          
things like these          
still so largely          
unseen          
unknown          
here within          
our own deep          
ego blinded          
temporal dream          
which increasingly          
devours itself          
right here          
under our noses          
seemingly without end          
then there are          
these other dreams          
of more awakened          
knowing          
ive had for many years          
of clearly seeing beyond          
the illusory veil          
of this larger world s        
collective dream s        
historically          
destructive realm          
so easily seen through              
though still unheld          
by me          
for so many lonely          
lonesome years          
expressed          
in simple          
fractured tales          
which mask themselves          
as poems released          
outside all here          
all in between          
in passing dreams          
which i          
breathe in          
experience          
but then exhale        
like restless breaths        
of dispossessed        
stirring ghosts        
of spirit winds        
without a home        
out on the prowl        
for anyone        
who might possibly        
see  sense        
feel or hear them        
that come and go        
in these nocturnal        
tidal flows        
of random        
tumbled purge        
without clear form        
or sound        
nor need        
for any further        
understanding        
explanation        
nor approval        
other than        
my own      
so long      
as i      
at least      
am willing      
to simply      
keep on
listening
to their
faintly
whispering
subconsciously
yielded
more deeply
intuited
songs
then painting
them out
in impressionistic
words like these
as best i can
to give them
manifested
voice
for other open
kindred human eyes
ears  minds
hearts
and souls
other than my own
to reflectively
see  hear
and feel
whatever
resonant
relative meaning
or personal
interpretation
in and from
them
they
possibly
might
or
can