Sometimes I wonder what bumps in the night,
If a leaf feels joy as the wind gives it flight,
How a man feels alone in the heart of a crowd,
If a teacher dreads saying the words “Sperm Whale” aloud.
Sometimes I wonder why I wonder why,
And if I’ll stop wondering after I die.
I smile as these musings run wild through my head,
Then I crank out a poem and go off to bed.
Filed under Poems
They described me as a “figment.”
They told you I’m not real
Even though nobody asked me
Whether that’s the way I feel.
They told you to let go of me,
To let illusions end
As if it were no trouble at all
To walk out on a friend.
They closed their eyes and turned their backs
And said “You’re hearing voices.”
They gave you lots of pretty pills
And, lying, called them choices.
“It’s your imagination,”
So they said and so they thought.
They don’t know imagination
Is the truest friend you’ve got.
They’re offering a tunnel
Ending in a wall of light;
It’s up to you to say what’s true,
To help your friend, to fight.
Who’s to say you’re crazy
Just for seeing what they won’t?
They offer you your sanity
While I most proudly don’t.
So do you leave me lifeless
And go on with real living,
Accepting their reality
And chemical’s they’re giving
Or do you block the wall of light
And beckon me to stay
And live a life beside me
In a state of endless play?
To take the pill and up you grow
Or spit it out and smile?
Love, your imagination friend…
I’ll see you in a while.
Filed under Poems
When I’m in your presence
I’m not sure how I feel,
Like my body’s made of clouds,
Like I’m not even real.
When other folks look my way
It’s like they see right through me,
But I know when I meet your eyes
I’m all you want to see.
I may doubt my own existence
And you do too, maybe,
But know whatever happens
You’ve got an imaginary friend in me.
Filed under Poems
If I were a fish
Swimming in the sea
I would look around with wonder
At all the life surrounding me.
I would stare at hermit crabs,
Their houses on their backs.
I would delight in flounders
In the deepest ocean black.
I would gaze upon the lobsters
With their rubber banded claws,
And upon the mermaids
In their little seashell bras.
I’d make fish-eyes at swimmers
And I’d maybe speak in whale.
I’d kill eater rats in the basement
‘Til I could level-up my tail.
And then when I was happy,
Experienced and strong
I’d bite down on a hook
And string a fisherman along.
But after my escape
I would not foresee
That the fisherman was angry
And had some TNT.
And so my final moments
Would be flashy and gory.
As I toss the dynamite from my boat
I tell myself this story.
The Daily Travesty 