The Web Poetry Corner is a Dream Machine Site The Dream Machine --- The Imagination of the World Wide Web

Remember when the blue moon happened every night? We would capture the perfect seasons and scenes of the evenings to perfection on the canvas we shared.

The air would fill with the greatest inscence and virgin rain...we could walk on water, no one really cared. Cares are filled with tears today.

What happened to the sunflower fields and fires that burned all night? What happened to the friends we shared in the brisk walk on the golden shores of happiness?

We were so young then, most of our moments captured in less time that we see today...

the phone only rings in memory tones, the man on the other end is gone.

The music steeps in fire, gone are the acts that follow a good tune. All we do now is imagine

paint-coated nothings. Nothing happens when youth is gone, all the life that's lived is just living. Living to live, working to live, as innocent whispers fade into guilt.

It's four-thirty A.M. Tuesday morning, been awake through night comtemplating green apples and sour grapes. Nothing breaks the silence so sudden as the day, the reality that slaps across your face gives you enough shock to make it another day, into the dark night again. Night plagued with the voices of yesterday telling you it's all wrong...eventually the voices are turned off forever, for sanity is all but lost.

I remember a wise man from Vietnam telling me to keep the fire burning bright,

If you let your guard down for one second, you're good as dead.

His music turned to my music on a sudden beer-soaked day in June.

But I witnessed a divorce...definitions of love turned black.

what do I believe anyway? For all we know, everything's an illusion...

I guess that's why it's so important to believe.

I turned my mind off today, everything made sense to me...

but the human.

Why study the mind? It lies and it's full of grime. The sword never

slew it's master like the mind slays it's body.

I awoke upon the golden shore...

only to cut my feet on the broken bottles

that once held all our dreams.

Want a new computer?

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NEXT? Why don't you look at Honey and Candy by: Joyce Hemsley from: Sunderland, England, UK

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To visit all of Chris Lahren's poems, click HERE

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