The Naked Troubadour

Unformed Dreams [poem]

Posted on May 9, 2012 Updated on Mar 29, 2017

doors
open
slowly
when we will not dream
(if they can come ajar at all).
With arbitrary molten glaze
my veined unfickle hand
plucks verdant schemes
for substance cannot
stand [or fall] unless a
loose pituitary gland is
basking in a daystar’s
earthy radiant core for
when we cannot gleam
with streams of lunarticly
lava flow then evolutionary
calmic levels cannot grow and
even all our raw and unformed
dreams
wilt
wanely

© 2012 Alan Morrison