Dreaming of Dreaming | Page 4

serious?you didn't even know?if it would work
try living with the memory of that scared little face?all covered with bandages?never the same again
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but don't worry?it was just a dream?it didn't really happen at all, did it ?
just keep telling yourself?it was all just a bad, bad dream.
Lovely Passenger
Here I sit,?on my bus,?seated behind?a vision divine.
She is young?and beautiful.?But mostly she is?a nubile,?young thing.
She looks?a little tired,?but young at heart.
She sneezes.?Will I say?" Bless you" ??Perhaps not.
Oh, I pine for?the days when?she may have been mine.
She is truly?a vision of?loveliness, divine.
Lust
This morning,?on my bus,?travelling to work,?I passed a woman?sitting in her car.
She was very attractive,?I recall from?my two second glance.
lovely face,?and such nice,?long, black hair.
and did I crave for her ??lust for her ?
have?rampant,?wanton,?lustful
desires for her ?
beg for?mad,?passionate,?non-stop?sex ?
why, no.?You do believe me, don't you ?
Looking Good
She has:?Terrific tits,?Beautiful boobs,?Loverly lungs,?Magnificent mammaries,?Nice nipples,?and
a cute arse!
Circular Poem
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear,?ROW DEAR, ROW DEAR, ROW,?ROW,?ROW,?ROW,?STROKE, STROKE, STROKE,
oooh,?stroke,?stroke,?stroke,?oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.
From Attitude to Gratitude
No longer do I have?the sheer luxury of?a do nothing,?be nobody,?go nowhere job.
It's good to have some real work to do.?But now, of course,?I have to work with?crappy computers and?a card file system that?have stood still in time.
As the world evolved?and got ready for?the next millenium,?we are stuck here in?a 70s time warp?with nothing but?dusty old shelves?and compactii?and junk?that belongs in a museum?to work with.
And still,?to get results?with antique systems?can give me?a feeling of self worth.
I do indeed lead a lucky life.?After all, I have a job?(with good conditions?and people too).
I keep my job,?and try my darndest?to do a good and honest job.?Because that is what?makes life worth living.
Good friends,?family,?co-workers,?and the satisfaction?of knowing that I will live?to enjoy life another day.
Perhaps
Do I believe in God ??That depends on what you mean by God.
Do I believe in life after death ??That depends how you define life,?how you define existence.
Do I have a soul ??I don't know how you define a soul,?but I suspect that I do.
I believe that there is something to look forward to?after death.
I believe that in some way, in some "place" the?souls of "good men" end up and exist together.
I don't know what or where it is,?But I'm looking forward to it - one day,?one eternity - perhaps.
Remembered Turf
I've got the password?and I'm into the system.
It's precipitating wet stuff?out of the sky,?but I'm warm and?dry in here.
And tiM was blown away?by his wet suit,?the other day at the coast...
And now I'm just listening?to some jazzy kind of music,?playing on the stereo,
as we remember the amazing?turf sculptures?in Civic,?in some abandoned?bank office building,?now reclaimed as art space?for the common man.
One Tuesday in February
It's a beautiful day to be alive!?I have just stepped outside the building?on my lunch break?with a can of Coca-Cola?and now I can quietly relax?and enjoy sitting on a bench?in the sunshine and sit?and quietly sip on my drink.
The quietness is interrupted?by a helicopter flying overhead?for a moment.
A few more sips?and the caffeine?and chemical cocktail?begins to work,?to give me a "rush"
? or perhaps just a nudge.
One quick ten minute walk?around the buildings?and I'm half way?back to my building.
I'm a little puffed?but feeling good.?Better start heading back?to my office soon.
One Wednesday in March
I walk outside into the glorious day.?The sun shines brightly,?another lunch time,?another can of coke.
Sweet as honey.?Sickly sweet.?I find time to sit?in the shade,?enjoy the beautiful day?and sip the sweet nectar.
Such a change from?the stuffy offices -?air conditioned and?closed and?controlled climate.
My Brother. Oh brother...
I have a brother?who thinks that he understands?all about my condition.
But, deep down?I think that?he thinks that?my condition is?all caused by a combination of:
low self-esteem,?not thinking positively,?bad diet, and?a guilty conscience
(presumably about either?not working hard enough,?seeing prostitutes, or?forgetting birthdays, or?some crap like that).
He has lots of good intentions?but basically he can't?come to terms with?the fact that?I earn a good salary?(not unlike him)
but I spend all my money?(basically on myself)?with not much to show for it,?and he has a wife and?four kids to support.
If I mention on the phone?that I have to go down the street?to buy a few groceries,?then he will gladly spend?half an hour telling me about?his favourite recipe, and?what ingredients to buy to make it?(and how good it will be for me) -?even though I tell him that?I could not be less interested in his recipe.
Oh brother!
Religion, sex, etc.
I have some ...?shall I say?unconventional views on religion.
I was touched by a Christian "anecdote",?for lack of a better thing to call it,?where, the story goes?that a man talks to god and?says (basically)
"throughout my life?I have been walking along a beach,?and I saw two sets of footprints,?yours and mine.
But in the worst times of my life?I only saw one set of footprints.
Why did you abandon me God ?"?And God replies?" At those times,?I had not abandoned you,?I was carrying you!
You see I never abandoned you,?I was always there for you."
That story always gets