Where does logic go to in the night?

Where  do dreams  go while we are awake?
Where does logic go to in the night?
Why does laughter make our body shake?

Why do  men like eating home made cake?
Why  do little children want to bite?
Where  do dreams go while we are awake?

Why is Windermere not Winderlake?
Why do we have wars and want to fight?
Why does laughter make our body shake?

Why do people not read William Blake?
Why is it so rare to have insight
Where  do dreams go while we are awake?

Why do we so often feel like fakes?
Why do people like to see the Light
Why does laughter make our body shake?

Oh, to see an eagle high in flight
Oh, to see  a friend   and love the sight
Where  do dreams  go while we are awake?
Why does laughter make our body shake?

 

How do you feel?

Cyclamen-2020-2How did he feel?
He’s dying to go to Heaven
I feel your  pain
Leave it alone.

How is the doctor
Very patient.

How is the phone?
It’s not alive!
Oh,my.Where shall we bury it?

Where is  my dinner?
On page 67.

Why are  we eating on our knees?
So we can pray while we dine

Where is the cat?
She ate the goldfish and   has gone  to Confession
But can animals sin?
She can’t even talk
There are silent ways of sinning
If we get divorced we could  give that a whirl
But we’re Catholics!
That makes it even more sinful
I can’t wait
But it’s not a sin
You bet?

Contorted faces wincing as they pass

Excited by the epidemic ruse
The front page item of the evening news
People rush together to convey
What they   do not know  or cannot say

Contorted faces wincing as they pass
No funeral. no wedding and no Mass
Lost inside the nightmare of the head
Imagination captured  and well fed

Will Cremation kill the bug widespread?
Can we know the judgement of the dead?
People die in accidents and cars
Flying through the air and seeing stars

Are we bored by ordinary life?
No wars, no murders, just the death of wives

 

Windy day

The honeysuckle ,heavy as a crown,
Wanders,waving ,in the windy air
Yet its roots are anchored in the ground

The branches wave like arms without a sound
Searching for another wild and bare.
The honeysuckle ,heavy as a crown,

Soon will come the flowers, a  pink nightgown
Who can hold the treasure hidden there?
Its roots are anchored in the  underground

We don’t always know what we have found
Illusion cloaks  perception till it tears
The honeysuckle ,heavy as a crown,

Shall we  describe our virtue with a noun?
New perception tortures what is rare
But roots are anchored in the  underground

Knowledge hides inside a  new nightmare
In the darkness ghosts come out to stare
The honeysuckle ,heavy as a crown,
A  stunning ship now anchored in the ground