Thoughts and Dreams

Boredom hath bested my weary soul once more.

I light a cigarette to create another smoky air of mystery
in this Shakespearian play I fool myself into believing my
life has become.

Hope, the sin of all sins inevitably leaves me stricken at
the wrong end of a tragedy.

Love used to be my saving grace but once more it does
elude me, oh Anima!

I think about poets of young and old and they depress me,
they transcend my talent, meagre as it is in every department

..but Ginsberg, Kerouac and their trusted lieutenants
always manage to calm my nerves like a sharp whiskey,
reigning them in with their witty prose,
restoring faith in my rhetoric, for now.

I want to bathe in the visionary Blake light and write the
most beautiful poem known to man, sadly I must suffer a lot
more before I can truly begin that challenge.

Things I see intrigue me, I want to write about every single thing!

Sadly, this time, I'm let down by a lack of time and space.